Mallay looked up from the bread dough she was kneading, having heard the front door open followed by a familiar voice a few seconds later. Confused since she’d left her newly appointed second in command on Carrick Station, she stood still for a moment and figured she was just hearing things until she heard him again. Curious now and more excited at the prospect of seeing Aric than she was ready to admit to anyone, she set the bowl aside and covering it with a towel before moving to the sink to wash her messy hands.

“Aric?” she called out as she entered the living room, pleasantly surprised to see the tawny Cathar removing his boots by the front door. “I thought you went to Rendili to spend the holidays with your parents.”

“I did, but then I decided to come here instead,” he nodded, “That alright?”

“It sure is,” she smiled as she strode over and hugged him, “We’re glad to have you!”

“Hey guys, I hate to interrupt,” Bella giggled as she pointed at the ceiling over their heads, “But you’d better pucker up and get to it!”

Mallay glanced up to see the large sprig of mistletoe and felt her cheeks heat up, “Oh….I uhh……well…”

“Well rules are rules and I’d hate to risk not getting presents under the tree by going against Life Day regs,” Aric said, his mouth curving in a half smile that she found incredibly sexy.

“No I suppose not,” she breathed as her heart began to beat faster.

“Happy Life Day, Mallay,” he murmured, then he finally closed the distance, his lips brushing hers in a gentle kiss.

That mouth on hers felt every bit as good as she thought it would after having performed CPR on him all those months ago when they were chasing down one of Tavus’ suppliers on Corescant. She sighed, astonished at how much pleasure there could be in such a simple act, then his tongue slipped past her parted lips and Mallay felt her knees grow weak. Three times she’d been intimate with a man and felt nothing at all, yet one kiss from Aric had her body coming alive for the first time……and she never wanted it to stop.

“I think that’s you,” he whispered against her mouth as a buzzing sound echoed.

“Nooooo,” the petite figure grumbled as she fought off consciousness, not wanting the dream to end. Then Mallay awoke with a start, blinking her eyes in confusion as they adjusted to the dim light coming in through her bedroom window. Frowning at the annoying noise, she flipped the switch on the buzzing alarm clock. Then she remembered what she’d been dreaming of and felt her cheeks heat up, her body still tingling a little as she slid out from the covers and stood. She stared out the window at the dawn sky, that warm, fluttery feeling in her belly as her heart wished for that dream to come true.

Several hours later, Mallay was still feeling all warm and fuzzy, but she managed to put that wonderful dream into the back of her mind so she could focus on the large family gathering at the farm. She kept catching her mother’s eye, hoping the surprise they arranged for Elara made it on time. The twins had their white blonde heads together, discussing something obviously important. Mallay didn’t completely trust the twinkle in Ros’s silver eyes, but whatever the Jedi had up her sleeve, Lissa would hopefully keep the mischief to a minimum. Bella and Corso had been a subject to some teasing, but the joy on the blushing Mantellian’s handsome face was infectious and they were all happy for the new couple. Surprisingly, no one had taken any digs at Mallay about Aric and she was wondering why. Not that there was anything between her and her squad mate, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted there to be……especially after that dream. Unlike Bella, however, Mallay wasn’t good with men and had no idea how to tell if one was interested in her. There were times she through Aric had romantic feelings for her, especially after Alderaan, but she couldn’t be certain and he never acted on them if he did. Feeling glum all of the sudden, Mallay ducked into the kitchen under the premise of checking on dinner.

“Hey Elara…..over here,” Ros hissed when she saw her mother follow Mallay into the kitchen, gesturing at the medic to join her and Lissa on the couch.

“What are you two up to?” Bella grinned at her younger sisters when she and Risha followed Elara over to where they were sitting. She looked around, spotting Derek playing chess with Corso while Jonah, Kit, and Zaryn were watching a movie on the HoloVid.

“Just a little digging,” Ros smirked before turning her focus on Elara. “So spill…….is something going on between Mallay and Aric?”

“Well……”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Ros grinned. “We need details. She’s been moping ever since she got to Dantooine and I’m thinking a certain Cathar is the reason.”

“Technically something sorta happened, but your sister doesn’t remember it…..”

“What…..did he get her drunk or something?!” Lissa raised a brow in confusion.

“Oh no…..not at all,” Elara’s green eyes widened, “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” Lissa assured her, sensing her older sister deeply focused on cooking as she tried to work through her emotions.

“It all started during a mission on Alderaan,” Elara began, “Actually I suspected Aric’s feelings before that……please don’t say anything to him.”

“We won’t,” Bella promised. “and you don’t have to go into that……just tell us what happened on Alderaan.”

“Mallay was hurt during a mission,” Elara continued, then a blush crept up on her pale cheeks, “In fact, it was the same afternoon when you found me with Balic.”

“Yeah, I felt bad about that……but Rish and I were happy for you!”

“Thanks, he’s really a nice guy,” Elara smiled, “Anyways……your sister ended up with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder. Aric managed to get her back to Organa palace in one piece, but she was already a little out of it by that time. We took her back to the ship and I was trying to get her shoulder back in place. She kept fighting me and I couldn’t safely sedate her because of the concussion. Then Aric had an idea……apparently something like this happened before with a former squad mate of his and his girlfriend managed to distract him long enough for the medic’s to pop his shoulder back in.”

“I think I know where this is going,” Ros grinned.

“And you’re probably correct,” Elara nodded. “Aric started…..err….distracting Mallay while I waited for the right time to deal with her shoulder.”

“Exactly how was he distracting her?” Bella asked, eager to hear everything since Mallay had been moping around every so often ever since she arrived on Dantooine after her squad was put on leave when they’d taken the last of the Havoc traitors.

“He was whispering really softly in her ear…..you know how his voice can be.”

“It is nice,” Risha had to agree.

“Then he started kissing her neck and Mallay really seemed to like that. I don’t think she even remembered I was in the room at that point, but her heart rate skyrocketed and her skin was flushed…..both signs that she was aroused. He whispered something to her and she responded, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I’m pretty sure he was about to kiss her though, but she finally loosened up enough for me to get her shoulder back in so I went for it and she passed out from the sudden pain. I felt bad and wondered if I should’ve waited, but I didn’t think it was right for me to intrude on something so private and I thought Aric would rather take that step when she was fully aware.”

“No you did the right thing, Elara,” Bella assured her, “But her reactions to him are a very good sign.”

“I thought so as well,” Elara agreed, “She’d told me and Aric some things about her past that night the two of you got drunk on Tatooine. About those Imperial soldiers trying to…..you know, and that she didn’t feel anything whenever she was with a man after that.”

“So I’m assuming that Mallay doesn’t remember what Aric did to her that afternoon because of the concussion,” Lissa guessed.

“I think she does on some subconscious level,” Elara ventured, “Because the morning after is really when she started acting a little differently.”

“Differently how?”

“Well before Aric would purposely say things to embarrass her, like you guys do here.”

“Can’t help it, she gets so flustered and makes it so easy,” Ros defended herself, her face lighting up with a mischievous grin.

“Well now whenever he talks to her in a certain way, makes any sort of risqué suggestion….even as a joke, or touches her, she gets all flustered and starts stuttering something awful,” Elara admitted, “So I’m guessing that subconsciously she remembers and it’s really confusing her.”

“Oh, I’ll bet,” Bella snickered, knowing how sexually repressed her uptight sister was. “Mallay-“

“She’s coming,” Lissa cut her oldest sister off just a few seconds before Mallay returned from the kitchen.

“Hey guys, we need to get the table set,” Mallay called out, then turned to her step father, “Derek, Mom needs help slicing the roast.”

“I’m on my way,” the tall Zabrak replied as he stood.

A little while later, everyone was well fed and lingering around the dining room table chatting when a comlink chimed. Sidra smiled when she pulled the device out of her pocket and plugged it into the wall. Elara gasped when a very familiar blonde woman’s image appeared.

“Mum,” she whispered, her green eyes glittering. “Is that really you?”

“Oh Elara, I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you too! Is Alexi there? Dad?”

“Your brother couldn’t make it, he’s been reassigned offworld,” her mother replied, then bowed her head, “I’m sorry Elara, but your father…….he-“

“It’s alright Mum,” Elara wiped her eyes.

“Elara, why don’t you go into the living room so you can have some privacy,” Sidra suggested and Elara smiled gratefully at her before rushing out of the dining room. As soon as the main Holoterminal connected, Sidra switched off the dining room feed.

“I’m so glad she called,” Mallay smiled, “Thanks for arranging it Mom!”

“I’m just relieved she agreed to it,” Sidra sighed. “I wasn’t sure after speaking to them the other day.”

Bella snorted, “Yeah, her Dad’s a real pri-“

“Bella Lauren!” Sidra chided, despite having her own strong opinions about the harsh military man. She understood that in his eyes, his daughter was a traitor, but she was still his child and Sidra couldn’t comprehend how any parent could completely shut out their own child as if she no longer existed.

“Wait……couldn’t Elara’s family trace the call here?” Corso’s eyes widened as the thought occurred to him.

“Corso’s got a point,” Bella nodded.

“Eh,” Lissa shrugged, “We thought of that already. That com Mom had was a blank we picked up on Carrick Station while we waited for the shuttle. Ros lost hers back on Tython. When we got home and found out what Mom was planning, Ros registered it under an alias and gave it to her to use just in case.”

“What’s the alias,” Bella’s green eyes narrowed in suspicion when Ros began to giggle.

Lissa rolled her eyes at her twin, “It’s registered to a spacer from Nar Shaddaa…….named Seymour Butts.”

“Oh geez, Ros……talk about obvious,” Bella snorted as both Corso and Jonah snickered.

“Duh……that was the point,” Ros shot back. “I figured they wouldn’t even bother to try a trace with such a stupid name.”

“She’s got a point,” Mallay had to credit Ros’s sharp thinking just as Elara returned and hugged Sidra.

“I can never thank you enough,” Elara murmured, her face still shining with joy. “Mum said you called her a few days ago to tell her I’d be here for Life Day. It meant so much to talk to my Mum…….I haven’t spoken with any of my family since I defected. I tried to call so many times, but they never answered.”

“It was Mallay’s idea and she’s the one who gave me your parents’ frequency. Your mother seems like a wonderful woman,” Sidra smiled, feeling no need to tell the young woman about her father’s reaction.

“She is,” Elara beamed, “and it was the best Life Day present I could ever have. Thank you…..all of you so very much. This is the first year I’ve celebrated the holidays since coming to the Republic.”

“Well, we can’t replace your real family,” Derek smiled at her, “But you’ll always have a home here, Elara.”

“That means more than I could possibly put into words,” she nodded, her eyes shining again.

“You don’t have to,” Mallay hugged her. “Happy Life Day, Elara!”

“Happy Life Day!” the rest of them echoed, cheers erupting from everyone as the champagne bottle was passed around.

“Speaking of family, Mum was a bit confused on one thing though and I couldn’t understand it either.” Elara frowned as she remembered something. “Do you know someone named Seymour Butts?”

“Another,” the filthy twi’lek asked, nodding at my glass. It was filthy too. That’s the beauty of cheap sub-level dives like this place: nothing is clean here. I nodded. The alien reached behind him. I watched him as he reached back, his bare chest smeared with alcohol from all arms of the galaxy. He had the familiar, hard body of a professional dancer; firm with lithe muscle. He drew out another bottle of Lum ale. I’d finished the previous one. I was off duty, on leave. I could afford to drown myself in cheap low quality poisons.

“I had thought a war hero would look more impressive. I admit I am somewhat disappointed.” Someone said from behind me. I considered ignoring him, but the steel in his voice slit the throat of my nascent alcohol haze. Whoever he was, he would be as comfortable putting a blade through my front as sinking one into my back. I should act very cautiously if I want to get out of here alive. Of course, that depends on whether I wanted to get out of here alive.

“I think I look exactly how you suspected someone in my situation would look.”

“And what situation would that be?” The man sounded amused, like a Vine cat toying with its prey. Great, I wasn’t interested in games right now. I had an appointment with the most indefatigable mistress to keep.

“I suspect you know what that is. Just get on with it.”

“And what am I getting one with?” Don’t insult my intelligence. There are a number of people who would love nothing more than my disappearance in some back alley dive bar: it’s partially why I picked the place. Now there’s no need for to sabotage my ship, killing two thousand, three hundred and ninety nine loyal crewmembers with me.

I turned, looking my probable executioner in the eye. Average build, average height and dressed in greys that would blend in anywhere from semi-formal to near casual settings. He had a rain poncho tucked under one arm, folded in a way that looked casual but would unfurl the whole thing with a flick of his wrist. His eyes were blue, though their colour was less important than the sharp intelligence in them. Yes, he was definitely someone I should be wary around.

“Very well,” the man mused before rounding on the bartender,” Two waters for the booth over there.” The bartender glanced at him just long enough to see his finger crook towards one of the empty booths towards my right.

“If you would follow me, captain.” I had not expected that. Granted, I had assumed someone would snipe me through the large plexiglass windows. It posed far less risk, of discovery or injury. I got up and went towards the booth in question, the man a half step behind me the entire way.

A thin veneer of mostly dry alcohol stuck the sleeves of my coat to the table. Was that poor housekeeping or intentional? Had he specifically chosen this table because his people treated it earlier with something. Am I just getting unduly paranoid? Probably, but in this situation, it may be warranted. The man sat in the both opposite me, his back to the wall.

“Well, what is-,” he held up a hand, silencing my question. Siilently, he drew a small metal box from a pocket and set it upon the table. A small appendage flicked up from the centre, and I felt a cold sobering pulse wash over me.

“There, we are now encased in an Umbaran jamming field. You may speak freely, captain.”

“Didn’t you hear, they offered me a promotion to Commander,” I rebuffed.

“Yes, and you turned it down: something about actions on the ground not justifying a promotion in a naval position, if I do recall.” He was good. Only Moff Masrad and I had been in the room when I’d refused the position, and I doubt Masrad had shared that information.

“So, you’re intelligence, or a non-sphere espionage agency: Baras’ perhaps?” there wasn’t even the faintest twitch of a smile, but I knew I was right. Of course, that could be what he wanted me to assume. I had no way of knowing what level of subterfuge he operated on. Safest bet was to assume one level above me, and go from there.

“Now, I believe you were about to tell me about my expectations regarding your appearance and recent bereavement.” I supressed a twitch, barely. Her smile flashed through my head, she had always smiled in private, her rigid discipline and pretence of lazy hedonism seemingly forgotten. I remember the second to last time we had been together. We lay in bed, her head turned away to watch the holovid. I had rotated the bed, so she could watch without sitting up and putting pressure on her stomach, swollen with the smooth bulge of our child, already strong in the force, just like her mother.

“I take it from the murderous look in your eye you seek vengeance?” the man noted, a whisper of dry amusement in his tone, “What if I could arrange that for you?” if that was true, I would take him up instan-. I stopped and actually considered. I knew who my target was, but I am not a fool. Drunk and silly perhaps, but I am not a fool. Her murderer was as intelligent as I am, and devious enough to arrange all this.

“Before you continue, I shall point out that I will not be party to any act I deem treasonous or seditious.” No response: his face was just that good. I got the faintest hint of satisfaction though.

“Of course,” the man “I can guarantee that the end goal of the organisation is the furthering of Imperial policy and defence of its subjects.

“In that case, I am willing to listen to your-,” I stopped. Something was wrong.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The man was watching something out of the corner of his eye. I smacked the bar’s layout back into my mind. Along his sightline would be the quartet of drunken Wequay slouched over a table and the door. I doubted it was nothing. In the grimy dull bet slightly reflective mirrors behind the bar, I saw silhouettes of three, possibly more, men stalk in, openly carrying rifles. I couldn’t make out any insignias, but there was no way they matched the local Hutt’s impression of law enforcement.

Right, objective: get the man to safety. Loadout? Two pistols and whatever he carried. First port of call, ascertain what he was willing to share

“Don’t suppose you wear a stealth field generator,” I asked quietly. Even though I knew the Umbaran jamming field was active, that didn’t mean they hadn’t pierced it.

“I find they are usually more trouble than they are worth, though some of my colleagues swear by them.” Interesting, yet more evidence for the intelligence background: it wasn’t relevant, but it was interesting.

“Do you have anything useful for the situation at hand?”

“The poncho is treated with a blast resistant surfactant. It could survive a few shots but nothing more than that.”

“All right, here’s the plan. I cast the poncho back and we use the distraction and temporary cover to get through that door and out via the kitchen exit. This assumes the people behind me are hostile, Am I correct in assuming they are hostile?”

“It would appear so, though they have not moved towards us directly,” he answered, evading my question. Fine, nothing is ever simple, is it?

“Understood, the previous plan is now the fall-back plan. The new plan is for me to carry the poncho and we move to leave. If they ignore us, we get out, split up and I suspect I’ll meet you or an associate before I return from leave. If they do react, we use the fall back plan. Now, drop the field.”

He did so, face calm and the din of the dive crashed back in. I had barely noticed the silence the bubble afforded. The man talked about the price of Juraxa root, as if he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Juraxa root was a priaptic agent, commonly used among human and near-human males of advancing years. Any eavesdroppers would have assumed the conversation had been embarrassing, and that was the reason for the jammer.

There was a door beside us, another reason why he chose this booth. It led to a kitchen. Nar Shaddaa building regulations insisted there be two exits from any kitchen, so we would have another way through. Of course, any competent toughs would have someone watching the exits, in case their quarry tried to bolt, but they would not be as capable as those who triggered the trap. That assumed they were here. It’s entirely possible that they had come here for a drink at the same time as the prospective recruiter, but the sheer level of coincidence necessary for that was unbelievable.

Someone, likely on of the men from the direction of the sound, said something in accented Huttese. I understand Huttese perfectly, as do all but the most sheltered among the Kaas elite, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. He had a Republic accent, Rendili I think.

Slowly, I got up, barely acting to totter slightly. If they thought I was impaired, they might get overconfident, and careless. Scooping up the poncho, I held it the exact same way the man had when he’d carried it and turned to see the men. I didn’t look at them directly, but at a reflection in the dark window.

There were five men, two rodians, with a twi’lek, a human and an insectoid creature I assume was a gand, though it could be a verpine or a geonosian. Xeno-entomology was not an interest of mine. All carried D-212s, cheap but reliable particle weapons mass-produced in a factory near here. I saw all five swivel, aiming their rifles at me. I threw the poncho, seeing it spread.

I grabbed the rising man, keeping my body between him and the gunmen. I didn’t look back to see where the poncho fell, just that it was covering our escape. Instead, I hustled him through the doorway, into the grimy kitchen.

The kitchen was a metal box, with metal surfaces, metal utensils and large metal refrigeration units. In an odd contrast with outside, it was clean. The reason why was apparent: the cook was a droid, a 2V factotum droid with a third hand bolted onto its front. Ignoring the setting, I sought the exit. Nar Shaddaa building regulations insisted there be two exits from any kitchen. Pity the owner had bribed the inspector to omit that detail from their report.

“Well Captain, what do you suggest?” the man’s tone was dry, bored almost. I whirled on him, and then got it. This prospective recruitment had become an aptitude test. Suddenly, I suspected the men outside were his hired goons, here to make the test more believable. No, even if they were, they had come in openly carrying weapons and speaking with republic accents. I had to assume they were Republic until evidence proved otherwise.

There was only one escape, and that would end with a fusillade of blasterfire. I glanced around the kitchen, off the shining metal surfaces, and my gaze fell upon the cook. Perhaps the rampant bribery was to my benefit after all. Advancing on the droid, I drew my holdout pistol. It shrieked and darted for the entrance, but not before I got its backplate open, leaving exposed wires trailing.

I chased after the droid, but only as far as the doorframe. The droid tottered out, wailing about armed maniacs, completely oblivious to the armed maniacs in front of it. I glanced at the man on the other side of the doorframe, who stared at me, an eyebrow quirked in amusement. Ah, my first break for today.

I gestured at the droid, tapping my back then making a rectangle with my fingers. The man nodded, slipped a vibroblade from his sleeve and motioned tossing it, then made a ball with his free hand and snapped it open. I nodded and put a hand briefly over my eyes, then drew my pistol. He nodded, agreeing with out wordless plan. I turned back to the standoff. Why they hadn’t burned through the walls I did not know, but I suspect they wanted one or both of us alive for some reason.

They let the droid run past, as fast as its stalk like legs could manage. As it passed them, the man jerked his hand out, flinging a vibroblade at them with blinding speed. It sank into the droids exposed backplate, and blinding light flashed against my now-closed eyes.

I moved less than a moment later, holdout sweeping in a controlled arc. I am no Republic trooper, I do not spray and pray. Every shot was aimed, precise and economical. I put a shot into each ones’ head, and then another for good measure. It wasn’t noble or honourable, but it was practical. Only a few races could survive chunks of their cranium being burned off, and Rodians, Humans Twi’leks and bug things need not apply.

Stepping out from the kitchen, I glanced around the bar. It was empty, down to the bartender. Pity, I’d liked the charm of the place. I swiped the bottle of Corellian Brandy from the bar, glancing at the label. 45% proof, it would do nicely. Tossing it up over the corpses, I watched the bottle shatter, spilling its contents over the ceiling. Passing underneath, I quickly checked their pockets for ID or anything useful. A few receipts, a taxi card, a pair of burner coms and an imperial credit chit. I knew it.

“Did I pass your test?”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” He was good: I’ll give him that. Even knowing what I know, he almost convinced me. I responded the only way I knew how. I flicked the credit chit to him. He caught it one handed, and smiled. It wasn’t cold or unsettling, but it stabbed icicles through my back.

“Oh yes, you’ll certainly do,” he mused more to himself than anyone. An act I’m sure of it. No spy reaches his fifties keeping bad habits like that. “Shall we head somewhere more secure, and finish our conversation?”

“Tharan dear, what if we adjusted the frequency a scootch? Holiday cooed into the doctor’s ear.

We had been at this for the better part of a day testing ways to impede a Jedi’s ability to abrogate the wills of others. From what I had seen, Master Fain had accrued many followers through force-enhanced persuasion. To stand a chance against him, I needed a way to arrest this ability. I understood it was important, the Republic’s standing with the Hutt Cartel depended upon removing him as soon as possible. Tharan glanced at Holiday, a slight smile behind his beard and I felt my hand twitch. Why was he wasting time, right now Master Fain could be-.

Stop: be mindful. What am I feeling right now?

I am annoyed, partly at the slow pace, at my own mental abilities are usually sufficient to breach the device’s field. That’s not it, I am patient, I can endure such tribulations and have endured far worse. No, I feel something else, beneath the frustration, something that had been biting at me since I entered Doctor Cedrax’ workshop.

It’s a churning, gripping feeling, a writhing in my intestines. It’s not the dark side, though it feels like a step towards it. It’s not internal, but reaching out, grasping at Holiday. I knew the feeling’s name. It’s wanting, I believe. I almost cracked up laughing. I’m a Jedi, I want for nothing. No, that is evidently untrue else I would not be feeling this unpleasant emotion. What do I want that Holiday has?

I do not wish for her figure or the confidence to run around with midriff exposed, I am comfortable enough in my own body. I do not desire her boundless intelligence, or patient diligence, for I have my own faculties in that regard. I certainly do not want a life of intangibility, or one blind to the beauties of the force.

Those are all negatives, what I do not want, but negatives like that do not foster such emotion. What is the positive? What do I want? Tharan? I do not desire for doctor Cedrax, so I do not want what she has and yet... No, I do not desire the good doctor, I wish for someone to look at me the way he views Holiday, his artificial assistant. I desire companionship, even in such a limited-. Stop! I am letting my eyes and force sense fool me. Simply because I can see through her does not mean she is artificial. I am allowing the feeling to control me. I should consider seeking out Master Yuon and ask her about this, what a Jedi should do when her heart yearns for something.

I excused myself and slunk out into the waiting room. Although Nar Shaddaa never sleeps, it does gain a semblance of quiet in the early hours of the morning. The waiting room was empty, save for Holiday standing behind the desk. Odd, I could hear her converse with Tharan in the room beyond and yet here she was. No, I suppose it is not odd. She is a person unbound by a body. There is no reason why she should limit herself to one form if she has concentration enough for more.

“Could I have a moment please, Holiday,” I asked her, quietly. She smiled with a serenity most masters would kill for and winked out. I drew my holocomm from the pouch obscured in the folds of my skirts. Absently, I tapped in the frequency and thumbed the call button. It beeped, once twice and I realised it must be late night on Tython right now. I moved to disconnect but the device flashed, opening a channel. A voluptuous woman with cybernetics stretching over her face appeared in monochrome blue. I blinked: that’s not Master Syo. I must have used the wrong frequency, but I suppose she would know emotions better than any Jedi. The Force finds its way in the strangest circumstances.

We conversed for a time, until I felt secure that my centre was not crumbling. The emotion was not wanting, but envy. It was not errant but a part of me. However, I did not have to act upon it. Thanking her, I signed off and headed back into the workshop. They would have a new iteration for test.

“Forty-Eight!”

Pain lashed across my back. I hissed and bit back a curse at the cowardly little executioner. The warm recycled air stung on the dozen of lash scars stretching across my bare back. He used a vibro-whip, a pointlessly flashy and dumb weapon that only worked on victims, not warriors. It should have cut down through bones and into the organs behind. This was supposed to be an execution.

“Forty-Nine!”

I could feel people stare as pain shocked through my brutalised back. Once upon a time, they’d all been Republic soldiers or aligned heroes. For any and all of them, this would’ve been an execution: not for me. Long ago, a Sith had tried to make the perfect Sith killer, and used her sorcery to graft cortosis-imbued graphene sheets to the flesh beneath my skin. One day, I’ll track her down and she can see for herself just how good I am at killing Sith. For now though, it stopped the whip from going further than skin deep.

“Fifty!”

The last lash cracked, electric charge crackling as it splayed across my body. Graphene’s a great conductor, so I didn’t spasm with the shocks, to my captors’ disappointment. It was bad enough they’d taken my prison tunic and the lash had bit through my bra, but I wasn’t gonna jiggle and give them a sick little show to remember when jerking off in their beds. They wanted that kind of drek, they’d better bring an army to try holding me down. I took down the last platoon that tried.

“F-Fifty lashes, my lord, as you instructed-Eek!” the executioner mewled pathetically as a pair of boots clomped up onto the plinth. He shrieked a high pitched squeak as the snap hiss erupted behind me. Yeah, that won’t work either: cortosis infused grafts, remember. The blade would short out the moment it touched them, and the graphene would conduct the charge safely down into the earth points in my palms and heels.

The blade whummed from behind. The chains shackling me up on the plinth no longer took my weight, and I staggered forwards. I didn’t let myself fall, wouldn’t let the despairing onlookers see my collapse. Instead, I regained my footing, turned and turned to face the camp commandant, my captor. He was little different from everyone else here. He’d been a Jedi once, a hero of the battle of Sullust, or so the other inmates despaired.

The ex-Jedi loomed silently somewhere in front of me. Yeah, I defy you, you and all you represent, those who surrender to evil. He gave his position away, growling his fetid breath into my face. I heard the scream barely a second before a woman flew past me: it was Aliss, my self-appointed medic. I lunged to grab her, save her from certain death. I missed. His blade hissed and crackled.

“Think again the next time you offer yourself up for someone else’s torture, horn-head,” The ex-Jedi sneered, sheathing his blade. Aliss let out her last sigh as her body crumpled in a boneless pile at my bare feet. Someday soon, someone’ll stage a distraction in here, and we’ll see just how good you are with that saber.

The coppery smell of blood mixed with ozone’s acrid tang. You would expect the smell from back-alley shootouts, not reputable cantinas, and certainly not my client’s. He was downstairs, I could see his headless body sprawled across a sofa. Damn, there goes our paycheck for this job, and possibly our chance of winning the great hunt. A retraction like this means we’d get assigned another contract, and all the prep work we’ve done so far was pointless. More than that, it was a waste of credits and more importantly, time. If we fall behind on bounties, then someone else finishes while we’re still in the semi-finals.

A sob squeaked from my right. I glanced at Mako to see her hands cupped in front of her mouth, eyes wide but fixed on her slicer friend. A callous part noted that now we didn’t have to take him anywhere. I told that part to shut up. Callous is my old way of thinking and saying anything like that does nothing but hurt Mako.

She rushed forwards, sliding into a sprawl beside the body. She didn’t notice the three droids roll out of their hiding places, blasters pointed at her. Droids think fast, there’s no delay or reflex fast enough to keep up with them. To them, its ‘parameter achieved, execute appropriate action’, the cognitive part takes nanoseconds. I’d drawn my pistols as soon as I saw their heat signatures, and I only got the first shots by shooting from the hip.

The first few bolts went wide, yowling into a light fitting. The rest drilled the right most droid. I started moving as soon as I hit the glowing device on its chassis. I’ve no idea what it was, but it looked important. Threat recognition algorithms reacted to my actions, and the three droids turned, aiming their blasters at me. Lunging for one of the sofas I fired my jetpack, changing my arc just enough. The sofa wouldn’t provide any cover, and the droids knew that. It didn’t matter: I wasn’t after cover. I was getting as much distance as I could from Mako. I didn’t want a stray shot blasting her head off. In theory, they wouldn’t attack her until they’d dealt with me. In practice, I’d better take them down fast.

They opened fire, shredding where I should’ve landed. I curled in mid-air, and thumbed the short-term energy shield. Rocketing onto my feet at the far end, I punched a missile towards the two other droids. They moved to dodge, blaster rifles tracking to me. I stayed still for just long enough to get a lock, and then fired a tracer missile at one. The micro-rocket flew across the room, slamming into the left droid. My on-board computer logged its trajectory and now-distinct heat signature. The middle one opened fire, and I saw heat flash over the dome of my shield. I turned back and fired a micro-dart into its torso. The droid scraped the dart off its chassis but it didn’t matter. The dart had already injected its payload. Mentally, I counted down from three even as I hammered the stricken droid with a trio of shots from each pistol. It exploded, showering the last assassin with spare parts shrapnel.

Unphased by the lights pocking my shield, I fired off a trio of the new heatseeker missiles I’d picked up at the Eidolon’s base. All three whirred off, seemingly at random for a moment. The moment passed and they locked onto the left droid. It didn’t even get to dodge as the missiles exploded on impact. The seared pieces clattered on the holoviewer beyond.

I surveyed the area, seeking more to kill. Nothing: just Mako, me and the dead.

“Mako, does the Eidolon have any other bounties on his head?” She continued weeping: I don’t think she heard me. That shouldn’t have surprised me. Just because I didn’t let people get that close to me doesn’t mean I don’t understand their pain. Reaching down, I put a hand on her shoulder and carefully guided her up, turning her away from the corpse.

I held her as she collapsed into my shoulder, and tried not to think of how easily a fourth assassin droid could burn us both. Anyone coming down the stairs would have clear sightlines of the lounge area, and we stood in the middle. One thermal detonator or incendiary grenade and we’d be trapped in a ring of fire, to be picked apart by blasterfire at their leisure.

Instead, I considered our next move. Knowing our luck, this little display just ensured there wouldn’t be any other bounties on him. It’s what I’d do, take out the guy who put a price on my head and make sure the broker takes it down. Bounty hunters are businessmen and women, they will stop hassling you if there’s no profit to be had in it.

The smart thing would be to tell Crysta that the client was dead and await a new hunt. This job hadn’t included a protection remit, and so was simply unavailable, rather than a failure. I agreed with the assertion, right up until Mako slipped out of my grasp. She knelt beside his lifeless body, cradling his head in her lap. Something didn’t add up. Not Mako, her response was typical for someone who just lost a friend. No, it was… ah.

He didn’t have a holster, or a blaster anywhere near him. He’d been unarmed, and they had gunned him down anyway. That was… sloppy. Anuli was a seriously competent hacker, and getting him would be a coup for any security firm. Killing him when he could have easily been impressed into service was wasteful. There’s no way an expert assassin hadn’t done even the most rudimentary checks on his victims. Anuli had been looking for ways off world. Simply offering him one would have been sufficient, and far cheaper. No, Anuli’s death was intentional, a message to me: come after me and I’ll wipe out your crew. Message received, loud and clear.

I considered it, I really did. I contemplated turning around and walking out of here. After all, there’s no reward now, to counterbalance the high risk. That died as soon as I looked at Mako. Yeah, he hurt Mako. Further threats to her safety need not apply. I’m going to break his karking legs, apply Kolto without setting them and then sell him to a female phase Hutt for us as a dancing pleasure slave.

Still, I am one vindictive, intelligence bounty hunter, against whatever remnants of his organisations. I needed an edge, and I couldn’t count on intelligence garnered from the holonet. Idly, I started reconfiguring my gauntlet microfacturing plant to produce incendiaries. Fire is an elemental force, and all sentient beings have an entirely justified but irrational fear of it. I can use that fear, burning his buildings as I head in to clear it out. Mako may think that using fire is savage, but in this case, I don’t think she’ll care too much.

Bounty or not, I’m coming for you Eidolon, and you’re going to burn.

I opened the mess cupboard and sighed. There were dry crackers, stale bread and stale crackers. In the refrigeration unit, there was water and stale cheese. Yeah, I know we pretty much lived off the ship when on Taris, but this was ridiculous.

You know, everyone in the Republic grows up wanting to be a Jedi, but no one imagines just how much your lie sucks as one. I came to the order in my late teens, so I know what I’m missing out on. At least Jedi knights receive a small stipend when off Tython, though that’s more a way to pay for genuine expenses than a salary.

“Hey Kira, I’m getting something delivered, you want anything?” I called up. There was no chance of disturbing anyone, we were the only people on board, apart from See-too, but he wouldn’t want anything.

“You sure there’s nothing in the mess?” She called from somewhere overhead, probably the upper cargo bay.

“Yeah, there’s nothing down here,” I called up to Kira.

“Hang on I’m coming down,” she called from somewhere overhead. I rolled my eyes. I think there’s a reason why most Jedi don’t take on padawans until after they’re thirty. Kira was four years younger than I am but you wouldn’t have guessed it from the way she acted. Secretly, I suspect she was reassigned to my tutelage so Masters Din and Kiwiks could keep an eye on me. I’ve been a model Jedi for the last six years, but that’s just not enough for some people.

Kira popped into the mess, skipping over the small airlock seal that I’m sure was only there to trip anyone carrying food. She wore her hair in its side parting and tuft of a padawan topknot combo, and the same robe as always. See-too had cleaned it a dozen times already, but the Taris smell lingered. I suppose the only way to really get it out was fire, lots and lots of fire.

I got a real good whiff of it, as the mess really wasn’t built for two people. It wasn’t really build for one person either, but See-too managed, somehow. Slipping past me, I felt Kira’s saberstaff hilt tap my outer thigh as she checked the cupboards. I stepped back, over the hump and watched the determined look fall off her face: See what I mean?

“Well, we could have cheese and crackers?” she offered, as if proposing double-chocolate fudge pudding. Come to think of it, maybe we should get that. Hey, it’s not like I’ll ever get to try it otherwise. I can already hear Master Din’s reprimand – “Passionate emotions can destroy a person, and there is no greater darkness than double-chocolate fudge pudding.”

“Uh huh, no: how’s Imperial work for you?” she made a face. Geez, I know the empire are the bad guys and all, but seriously, it’s not as if the food is going to kill you. It’s specifically made for humans.

“Uh, not sure I want anything from there,” she hedged; worry flickering all over her face.

“Ever tried it before?”

“Uh,” she began to protest, but I’d got her.

“Then how do you know you don’t like anything? There is no ignorance, remember,” I jokingly chided before something caught my eye, “Hey, if we get that, that and that we actually save credits.” Kira glanced at where I’d pointed at the meu and made a face.

“Uh, you do know there’s no way we could get through that much in one go, right?”

“Sure, but do you want to tell the masters we spent thirty credits on a meal that could’ve cost twenty five?” she looked at me and sighed. She knew when she was beat.

“Fine, but we’re getting Milk Pudding. I haven’t had that in ages,” Kira relented. I just stared at her. I thought she’d never had Imperial food before. She glanced at me, insolently tilting her head sideways then rolling her eyes.

“Hey c’mon, I grew up on Nar Shaddaa remember,” my Padawan sassed back. Good thing I’m not a proper knight or I’d have to reprove, maybe even give her a dull lecture or something. As it was, I smirked back at her. You grew up tasting the stuff sure, but I grew up eating it. Maybe the other two should be Falafels and Yozusk Koftas, and ask the chef to mix them together.

“The Beast cage is a programmable repulsorlift vehicle,” the mad scientist explained, his voice muffled like a vacuum running through thick carpet, “I’ll send it to-.” He didn’t finish. I shot him, burning a hole between the eyes. He didn’t even get a chance to look shocked before crumpling to the floor.

“Corso, Keep watch. I don’t want any loose critters jumping us while I deal with all this!” I called back to the big hunk of man meat staring dumbly at everything. Yeah, I know I shot him in the face. I mightn’t be ladylike but it’s lucrative. I heard his disgruntled sigh as he plodded off towards the door. Stupid judging Corso: I’d have cut him loose soon as we hit Nar Shaddaa if he weren’t so good at keeping bad guys off me, or you know, wasn’t so adorable. It’d be a shame if some other less well-meaning ne’er-do-well got to break that earnest innocence and wrap the pieces round their finger. Besides, Risha’s starting to warm to him, or at least to his hard body.

“You shot him,” Momi bleated. Yeah, he was a bad guy, or didn’t you notice when he was experimenting on you? Why do Senators always raise their kids to be so naïve? If her actions had gotten public, the scandal would really hurt the Republic’s chances with the Hutts, and all for some critters who’d eat you if given the chance. Still, rescuing senator’s daughters usually came with big rewards; either in credits or job offers. You can never have too many of either.

I scooped up the scientist’s datapad, quickly pouring over the device. After a moment, I think I got it and thumbed what I’m pretty sure was the release button. The energy field snapped out, and I hopped up to the holding cell. I squatted down beside her, drawing my diagnostic scanner.

“Yeah, now hold still,” I called, running my scanner over her. It didn’t look good. Everything was going wrong, it was like her body just decided it didn’t know what to do any more, like someone’d stolen the blueprints. Great, genetic damage: there’s a reason nobody cured the Rakghoul virus three hundred years ago, and is still as virulent as ever. Genetic damage is difficult as ever to treat, and that’s when you’ve got a record of what the undamaged sequence is. Good thing her father’s rich, or she’d be dead in a month. With treatment though, she’d be on pills the rest of her life, and probably sterile. Stars, it’s not a great option, but it’s better than being dead.

“Thank you for dealing with that vile monster. Please, take the genetic samples to the Senate Tower on Coruscant. A researcher named Daru’da can clone the Shanjaru and repopulate the species. It will be my dying legacy. Lazhae injected me with awful diseases: incurable ones.” Yeah, no it isn’t: not if you’ve ever been in a Republic hospital at any point in your life, or if your Mom had her pre-natal care in one. They store genetic sequences in patient files, for precisely this reason.

“Ough, The pain is horrible. I don’t want to live like this. Please, kill me.” She wailed. I grabbed her hand, squeezing just enough that she looked at me.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’m going to give you something for the pain, and when you wake up, you’ll be in a hospital, where they can treat severe genetic damage. You’ll be on pills for a while, but you’ll be okay,” I consoled, tapping the back of her hand with mine. Then I let her go and shot her with a tranquiliser dart.

I don’t know what finally did it, the pain, the tranquiliser or the sheer exhaustion, but she fell into the restful peace of sleep a moment later. We had to get her to a hospital soonest but first, I had both the female and the male Shanjaru, and a buyer who’d jerked me around quite a bit ove the past day.

Slipping my medical scanner back into my pocket, I whipped out my holocomm. Thumbing the call button, I got through to my client’s agent: the stff and oh so proper majordomo of Drooga the Hutt.

“This is Ga’ram, Majordomo to the Illustrious Feastmaster Drooga the Hutt. You may speak,” he

“Hey, this is me, and all my big fancy titles. I’ve got the female Shanjaru, but I don’t do free delivery.”

“What! I refuse to pay for anything I already own. If you don’t return it this instant I-,” He protested, indignant pomposity reverberating from every word. Wow: and I’d thought Alderaanians were bad. I cut him off as soon as possible, you don’t let the hoity-toity get on a roll or they’ll snob you back into the gutter.

“Well, that’s a bit unfortunate, for you I mean. I’m not the guy who promised the great Feastmaster the last pair of Shanjaru for his finale. Wonder what he’ll replace the last course with, or who. I know you’re not the last Twi’lek in the galaxy, but I hear some Hutts are into sentient meals.” Something ugly bubbled over his face. If I were being charitable, I’d call it loathing.

“What do you want?” he grumbled, as stiff as ever

“Five hundred thousand,” I beamed, as sweet as a Bama bar dipped in syrup. He coughed as if he’d just tried one.

“You have got to be joking?”

“Well, I could be argued down to a hundred thousand, and that big Wookie,” I offered, a saintly expression all over my face. I’m good at looking innocent and wholesome, despite my chosen profession. It’s why I’m so good at it. People look at me and think I’m someone’s favourite Aunt or Mom, not a heroic arms dealer and all round dangerous criminal.

He looked at me like I was Bogan incarnate.

“Fifty Thousand, and the Wookie.”

“Don’t forget the engine part for the female either.”

“And no more,” he scowled, jowls set. It was hilarious, watching the proud majordomo refuse to squirm as I bilked him: serves Drooga right for jerking me around all day. I’m a busy woman, I have places to go, Skavak to kill.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” I beamed at him, fifty thousand credits richer that I’d been before the holocall. He cut the connection a touch sharper than necessary.

Tapping on the datapad, I sent the last Tomcat Shanjaru off to Drooga’s pleasure barge.

“Hey Corso, how’d you like to rescue a damsel in distress?” I called across the ramshackle lab.

“You want me to carry her to the taxi rank, don’t you Captain?” he asked, and the level of wariness in his voice hurt me all the way down to my core. Didn’t he trust that I wouldn’t mercilessly exploit his strong back and stronger morals to do all the heavy lifting?

“Got it in one,” I called back, “Now c’mon, times wasting and she doesn’t have a lot of it.” He came running, and I saw the guilty look on his face before he remembered to hide it. Scooping her up, he followed me out, into shadow town. For my next trick: getting out of here with everyone alive and free.

I woke with a start. I know I was on the ship. I could feel the force all around me, all spinning and swirling, like some torrent or whirly-pool. I was safe, there was nothing on the ship apart from me, Vette and the Captain: nothing that could hurt me. The thoughts didn’t stop my shivering.

My dream came back, a world of buildings and bright lights that felt all weird, like the dark and light bouncing an hitting each other everywhere. I’d been on it, running with Vette, fighting a giant monster that regrew its face with words. Then Vette went away, and a person with a fake false but familiar face showed up. We’d forced back a tide of darkness and… I must’ve woken up when the tip of her vibroblade popped out my front.

It was a vision, I think. I mean, I could be wrong and all, but it felt like an illusion. I had to watch out for a false fake face and vibroblades, unless that was symbols for something else. Uh, maybe I should write it down before I forget. It meant getting up and finding my datapad. I’ll do it in the morning. I rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Palladius had lured me into a trap, and cut off my connection to the force. Now that trick might work on your usual Sith, but I’m a son of Shange, a prince among the Cathar clans. I know how to use my ancestral warstaff. He barely knew how to use his lightsaber. I didn’t even need Khem eating his power to plant my blade in his gut.

“What, What? How is this possible? You’re stronger than any I’ve faced.” He babbled and I could see the hopes for victory die in his eyes. As if realising I was still looming over him, ready to take his corpulent head from his shoulders, he dropped to his hands and knees. A pool of crimson blood dripped from the gashes in his robes, and I’m sure I saw red-stained fat slop in the gory puddle. I felt Khem’s desire from over my right shoulder. One wounded force user, provably hostile and helpless before him: and he thought I didn’t get him anything for life day.

“Forgive me my lord. Take the artefact, just let me live and carry on the cult in your name.” I quirked an eyebrow: Oh?

“I hate to break it to you Paladius, but Darth Zash promised the cult to us. You’re done. The boy sneered from my left, arms crossed in a pathetic attempt to look tough. Rylee stood beside him, fetchingly shivering in those rags she called clothes.

Well, here was a conundrum: two groups desperately begging to enter my service. On one side, there was Rylee, an adorably shy, cute young woman with all the leadership potential of a sponge, but she would follow my every word and look very fetching in properly cut robes of gold. She also had the boy, who probably has his uses. On the other side, there was Paladius. He had experience running a cult: well, running it into the ground anyway. He was also Sith, for what little that’s worth, he could lead and compel as well as any. Of course, Sith don’t share power. I’d have to deal with him again, sooner or later.

“It’s all yours,” I assented, turning my head to the right. Rylee twitched, the sudden movement quivering her breasts most fetchingly. The boy just stared at me, too dumb to even react. Palladius smiled benevolently, until he realised I wasn’t looking at him, “Khem.”

My most morose monster rumbled a laugh and descended upon the fallen Sith. He scrabbled back, porcine eyes wide with the most delicious terror. I felt the wave of revulsion mixed with vindication from the boy. As for the girl beside him, well, Rylee was not a simple girl as Destris and Paladius naively believed. I could taste her delectable fear, but also the steel beneath, and hmmn… interesting. She tore her eyes away from the bloody remainder of Khem’s lunch, and returned my gaze. Yes, definitely interesting. I didn’t need the dark side of the force or my superior sense of smell to know what she wanted. Power is an aphrodisiac, after all.

Well, I’m sure I could find a reason to stay around for another hour or two. Perhaps she’ll be so kind as to offer me a personal tour of Paladius’ former palace. I did hear this rumour from somewhere or other that Paladius’ personal chambers had a bed that could sleep eight at a time. We’ll only need a quarter of that… for now.

@Alaurin- *giggles* exactly what I needed to relax after a day of homework. What a sweet way to surprise Elara, too. Nice to have you back!

@Feldraeth- Glad I was able to be an inspiration, even if a bit accidentally. Can I guess which sin goes with who? Here goes:

Caimon: not sure

Cierra: Envy

Kadrhian: I think this is your Pride?

Zul: She's definitely Wrath

Lucida: Gluttony

Noctaire: Greed

Roan: Sloth. Very-cute-yet-stil-powerful sloth

Toma'simba: Lust

Did I get them right? Fun reads, it was neat to puzzle it out.

The endless grassy plains had looked peaceful and relaxing when she had got there, but Ketturah decided that she really hated them by the third kilometer. There was just so. Much. Open. Space. And all of it looked the same- grass, grass, and more grass. And oh, how about a little more grass? She felt exposed, like some giant avian would see her and pounce on her. The sun beat down on her head and the wind wouldn’t stop blowing.

“I’d give anything for a drink,” she muttered as she trudged up yet another rolling hill. She had water, of course, but it was probably hot and weird-tasting after sitting in her canteen for so long. The blue-haired hunter had passed her after the first hour, carrying a large pack and asking cheerfully if she was sure she didn’t want his help. She wondered how far he had gotten by now.

The next little dip between the hills lay in deep shadow. It was starting to get dark out, and she should probably stop for the night before too long. Wandering around in the dark didn’t sound too fun, and she was tired. How far had she come? She checked her datapad. Only six kilometers! At this rate, it would be a couple days before she got to the homestead. The other kid would probably get there first, and there went her chances of getting off this rock any time soon.

Well, better keep going, then. Shifting the pack on her back, she started up the next hill.

Three hours later, she knew she had made a mistake. Dantooine was pitch black now, and she had no idea what was in front of her. Cursing herself for not planning better, or at least stopping to buy a couple of glow rods before she left the town, she kept on, stumbling over rodent mounds and little gulleys and hoping desperately that she wasn’t about to walk off a sudden cliff. With the sun gone, it was getting cold faster than she had thought possible and the breeze had turned chilly.

After who knew how long, she spotted a faint light in the distance. Was it a gap between hills letting in a star? But no, it flickered too much to be starlight and there was too much dark space between that and the rest of the sky. Too unsteady and isolated to be a house or barn, either. Someone must be camping out here.

Instantly, her mind flashed to the boy from town. What were the odds he had decided to hole up somewhere and take a rest while she kept on behind? She grinned. Well, he may be better out here, but she had something he didn’t: persistence. By the time he broke camp in the morning, she’d be kilometers ahead of him, with him none the wiser.

The thought cheered her up a bit and she sat down on the hillside to rest for a minute. And some food. Food would be good. Pulling out her pack, she dug for a snack. A quick search turned up some dried meat and an energy bar. Worked for her.

As she munched, she look up. Well, the wilderness did have something going for it, at least. She’d never seen the stars this clearly from planetside before. What systems were up there? She could probably look it up on her datapad, but it seemed better to wonder. Besides, last time she had checked, the power cells were running a little low and she only had one replacement. Another thing to remember for next time, she supposed. And blast it if it wasn’t cold once you stopped moving.

Ketturah stood up with a deep sigh. Time to get a move on.

She had a blister on her heel. It had started sometime last night, but by now she could feel the burning pain with every step she took. Everything inside told her she needed to stop and rest, maybe eat a bit and dig out some more kolto to put on her foot, but she knew if she did that, she would fall asleep and the other hunter would win. So she grabbed another protein bar and pulled the wrapper off.

How was he doing, she wondered. The light from his camp had disappeared quickly last night, and that was the last she had seen of him. Probably a long ways back. After all, she had a whole night of traveling on him. She wanted to check up, but the datapad was running through power way faster than she thought it would. Probably having trouble getting a signal out here. Apart from a couple places that could be farm houses, she hadn’t seen a sign of intelligent life all day.

Or water for that matter. Weren’t there supposed to be streams to fill your canteen at somewhere around these sorts of places?

The sun beat down and she kept walking, each step coming closer and closer to a limp.

Nighttime again. The datapad’s batteries had run out sometime after noon, but just before they had, she had read approximately twenty-nine kilometers left. Barely halfway there. She wasn’t sure how much further she had come since then, but probably not as much as she wanted. The water had run out right after that and she had needed to stop until it cooled off enough that she wasn’t wanting a drink every five minutes. Then her blister had burst and she had needed to stop again to see to that.

Now it was dark enough that she could barely see what was in front of her and her head spun from dehydration.

There was water around, she was sure, but where in the stars it could be in this endless sameness was a mystery to her. She almost wished she had taken the kid up on his offer.

No, she didn’t. She was sixteen and more importantly, she was a hunter. She could take care of herself. Besides, it wasn’t like she was stupid. If she hadn’t found any water, there probably wasn’t any.

Something caught her foot and she tripped, stumbling forward before well and truly falling down a slope to a narrow gulley. Fire from her injured heel shot up the back of her leg and she felt the tiniest bit of tears in her eyes. “Firfeck.”

Alright. She was alright. She had a minute to sit here and recover, then she had to get up and keep moving. Just a minute.

A few minutes later, she heard a noise. Was that… footsteps? Slowly, trying not to make any noise that might alert a predator or a suspicious farmer, she pulled out her blaster. Whoever it was was coming closer.

A head poked over the edge of the gully, starlight glinting off cybernetics. “Hey,” said the other hunter’s voice. “Need some help?”

Ketturah looked down at herself, her dust-covered clothes, still-throbbing ankle, and much-lighter-than-it-should be pack. “Got any booze?”

@Lunafox: Mother figure? Roan already has a mother figure; Overseer Ragate. That statement alone probably tells you just how screwed up he is.

@Rhyys: I liked the use of first person, and the way you let the audience know the secret before Jorgan’s reveal.

@Frauzet: I like the quiet power in the piece, and the way you show Thorns cares deeply for his brother without needing words. I also liked that sister in law or not, he’ll charge Elara for finding Nik Then there’s Mako. It’s sad that she just gives up, though I suppose losing Thorns (or her respective hunter) is the straw. I wonder what the reunion would be like, and if she’ll be in any position to help.

@Alaurin: Just when I thought I could start to categorise what would come next, you pull the proverbial rug away. As always, great characterisation, and I especially liked the phone call reunion (and am kicking myself that I didn’t think of it, given your preferred themes of family and sorority [meant as the feminine term for brotherhood, not as in American college houses]) Also, Seymour Butts: The Simpsons live on.

@Mirdthestrill:

Part I: Bounty Hunters work alone? Jango and Zam would like a word with you . All, good ideas whittled away by pragmatism, an obstinate bouncer and pride. Also, starting at sixteen, guess I can’t really talk given Roan’s young enough to receive a letter from Hogwarts, but isn’t that a little young to head off solo? Lastly, was this inspired by the rites of passage stuff a while back? Actually, don’t answer that, muses must be kept secret, as should real-world details.

I remember watching a play adaption of treasure island by an acclaimed modern playwright where Jim Hawkings was a girl. I was amazed and found it interesting because I thought the playwright was exploring themes of feminism, budding sexuality (Arthur Darvill played LJS) and the place of women in fantasy or period fiction as more than glorified props or motivations for the menfolk. Unfortunately, they had a mini interview with the playwright in the interval and she basically told everyone he Jim was a girl because she was an author insert. Anyway, what I’m trying to convey is that the stuff behind the curtain is usually less interesting than the fiction. Also, giving out real-life details is risky.

Part II: the great Dantooine outdoors, spiked bilboa tree forests, rolling grassy plains, carnivorous snails. What’s not to love? Also wouldn’t head out without any survival training whatsoever Good to see someone’s out there with her. I know it sounds wrong, but I liked her hardships, the blister, the dehydration. Too often we skip over the little things like that, even though they are often more dangerous than stuff like the aforementioned snails.

Finally, the Sins post, shall we go through them?

Caimon – unsure – that’s not surprising, I cheated. It’s Acedia, or listlessness and it was folded into Sloth nearly a millennium ago. It fits because Caimon knows what he should be doing, yet cannot bring himself to do it, or even return to his duties.

Cierra – Envy – indeed. Probably shouldn’t have namedropped it at the end, but I felt it was too nascent to really register. The Jedi have this nasty habit of mindfulness, which really quashes base emotions before they can properly stew.

Kadrhian – Pride? – yes, she unconsciously views her upgrades as making her better suited for the task than others around her.

Kaina’zul’anon – Wrath – oh yes, I thought I might confuse people because she’s not a rampaging monster, but a cold fury is just as wrathful as rage.

Lucida – Gluttony – yes, and another character you haven’t met. I probably spoiled a bit about her with this one, but it fitted.

Noctaire – Greed – Oh yes. She’s a heroic character, but greed drives her most days. This scene always irked me a little, precisely because the evil doctor sends the beast to the Hutt and there’s no option to haggle a price for its return. Still, I suppose not being murdered in the middle of the night by Risha when she finds out is reward enough.

Roan – Sloth – yes but I must question your use of the word ‘cute’. He just risked the security of Darth Baras’ operations because he couldn’t be bothered to go and find a pen.

Toma’simba – Lust – absolutely. Everyone in the piece lusted for one thing or another, and the Cat Sith is defined by his lusts for power, affection, recognition, as well as the more carnal stuff. Also, we finally have a name for the unknown Cathar.

So 7 out of 7 (Caimon doesn’t count because there’s no way to know about Acedia without talking the ideas over with a devout Catholic friend or seeking it out on Wikipedia [and the latter doesn’t give much information either]) Congratulations.

Alarms screeched and warbled as Vette and I stormed the detention facilicic-, uh facicili… prison block. There were three people, and two were in cells. One was a woman in a hooded jumper with leatheris straps, trousers with big pockets and had bid red patches around her eyes, like a panda. The other was a teenaged guy with untidy red hair. He must be Durmat Rylon. We’re here to kill him so he can’t tell everyone about his dad. The third person wore black armour with a brightly coloured vibrosword over his shoulder and cybernetics all over his head.

“This is a restricted area. What are you doing here, who are you?” He demanded, not looking happy to see us. I think he might be the gaoler.

“This is a-,” I paused mid-declaration as the right word didn’t pop into my head. Glancing back at Vette, I whispered,

“What’s the opposite of escape?”

“Uh, capture?”

“No, when you’re trying to escape someone else.” she looked at me for a moment, before the word hit her face, lighting it up.

“Jailbreak?”

“Gaolbreak!”

“Uh huh, right,” the gaoler drawled as he looked Vette up and down. Hey, I’m here and I’m the big bad Sith, remember, “get in that cell while I figure out your parents’ holos. Kids shouldn’t be playing down here.” He needs to be taught to fear the Sith.

I flexed my wrist, and my lightsaber slipped out of its sheath, into my hand. Red light bathed everything to my right and Rylon started making stuttering sounds. The gaoler moved to put his desk between him and me.

“I-It’s a S-Sith” the spy’s son squeaked. Now even the gaoler was starting to look worried. There, that’s better. Fear me, for I am Sith, Rawr. Wait, I didn’t just say that out loud did I? no-one’s acting like I did, so I mustn’t’ve. Good. Sith don’t go “Rawr”. Oops.

Then a squad of men clacked through the doors at a trot, so no-one remembered I did that. I turned to see the doomed patrol and they all wore faceless white uniforms. They were Republic soldiers! No, they weren’t rebels or resistors in white armour, they were real Republics, Republicites? Republicans? Doesn’t matter, they sent Republic soldiers! Yay. I glanced at Vette: these’re mine, by the way. you can have the next set. Oh, who am I kidding: Sith privilege! “Mine!”

I leapt at the nearest, and put my saber through his hate-ey Republic belly before he could point a rifle at me. Dancing around his side, I hopped up for a mass execution strike at neck height. Cold realisation turned my blade. If I kill them all now, I won’t have any left for later. I turned my sweeping slash into a smash and plunged the power out. They went flying everywhere, except for two, who got caught in the door. They bounced back into blade range and I hacked them both up into three pieces without meaning to. Aww, now I only have two left to play with.

I jumped at one, bouncing his trio of shots wildly before I sank the blade through his arm. He screamed, and I realised he was a she. Oops, their silly helmets don’t show genders. Still didn’t stop me cleaving through her body but it might’ve if I’d known.

The last one was on the far side of the room, back up against the cage with the woman in, and she looked unhappy. She lunged up from her sulking position, grabbed him from behind and wrenched him back, slamming him against the bars. He slumped forwards, his pistol in her hands. She unloaded the whole thing into his back. Wow, guess she was pretty mad about some-. Hey, he was mine!

“Hold it, you hyped up little punk!” someone drawl-snarled at me from the far side of the room. The Gaoler stood behind Vette and had a vibroblade out, holding it near her neck. How had he got a hold on her? Didn’t matter, he had, and now he threatened her. He dies now.

“Don’t even think about it. Now you’re going to get in that cell and then maybe I’ll let her join-.” He didn’t finish. I reached out with a tendril of power, wrapped it around his neck and yanked on it like a ripcord. His head spun around like a spinny thing and fell off his neck. Vette was out of his grasp before the blood got all over her clothes. That just left Rylon. He fell to his knees even though he wasn’t looking at me. He stared at the Gaoler’s corpse forlornly.

“Zixx, Zixx? C’mon talk to me Zixx, get up man.” He pleaded with the headless body by his cell.

“You do know that he can’t get up without a head.” I explained to him, though I don’t know why I bothered. I was just going to kill him. He knew it too.

“Then I’m next, right,” he snapped at me with more spine that I’ve seen from him before, “Please, please, I know why you’re here. The- the Republic’s investigating my dad and an agent’s coming to put the screws to me, but I won’t break! I promise! Let me live, my dad’s secret is safe with me. I’m a rock.” Aww, and back to the snivelling, or is it swivelling? Just when it started to look interesting. He continued on for some time but I wasn’t listening. Vette was, and spoke to him for me. I’m sure all his whining fell on deaf ears anyway.

One thing I don’t get. If I hacked all the way in here, killed the guards and then killed him and left, it’d look as if he was my target after all. Why would anyone send someone to silence him unless he had something to hide? However, if the other prisoner was gone and he was dead, it’d look like he was a witness we killed so he couldn’t tell people what we were doing.

“Hey, what are you in for?” I called to the woman. My plan wouldn’t work if she was a traitor to the empire and in here because she was too evil for the rebel terrorists or something.

“I killed someone,” she stated in a flat voice. Okay, that’s good. People are all too silly over that anyway. If people don’t want to die, then they shouldn’t go red.

“Well, who hasn’t, you’re coming with us, okay?” I asked. She might’ve stolen my Republic soldier earlier, but I don’t think Vette and I could carry her out if she didn’t want to go, and we needed her to come for this to work.

“Sure, beats lining up against the wall: I’m in.” she answered, though I couldn’t read anything off her. Maybe standing by walls is bad here: maybe they fall over or bugs pop out of them and stuff.

I drew my saber again and slashed through the front of her cell, once and twice. The bars clinked out one by one and she clambered out, free. Okay, now to kill Rylon, so it looked like we were silencing him as a witness for her escape and we could go.

I headed over to his cage, red searing everything around me in stark brilliance. One thrust through the bars and we could go. Vette stopped me with a look that said ‘I know what you’re thinking, and no. He’s coming too’. But my plan would work. The look didn’t change. But my idea points suspicion away from Rylon. The look didn’t change. Ugh, fine. I slashed his bars open. He stepped out, into lightsaber reach, and passed through it. Stupid Vette, I thought we were a team. I kill things and she does all the boring people stuff.

“Shall we go, there’s a shuttle at the bottom of the camp we can hijack.” The woman suggested, then took off. The two ex-prisoners took the lead, with Vette in the middle and me at the back. We ran out of the detention facilicity, right into another squad of soldiers. They were ready for us, and opened fire.

Everyone else tried to slow down, with blasters burning the air around us. I grabbed Vette’s hand and lashed my will at Rylon, the soldiers and what’s her name. The torrent of power smashed into them, driving them off the far side of the walkway. They all screamed as they fell. Vette started screaming too but I wasn’t listening. We reached the far side of the walkway and I pulled her off.

Air rushed up around us as it pulled at my clothes and making flappy sounds. Everyone but me was screaming, flailing their arms and everything, as if they couldn’t see what was below us. It was one of the big triangle rain covers down the bottom of the pit.

The soldiers overshot it by a bit and went splat on the dusty ground, dead as a Jedi in the citadel. The prisoners, Vette and I all hit the canopy in a scattered rain of humans and bounced. We all went in different ways and rolled and fell and slid down the canvas with a satisfying “vrrrrip” sound. Vette let go of my hand when we hit the canvas and I got turned upside down and right way up and back and front as we went down. I think I saw the prisoners bounce off the bottom end, where there was a big rail.

I reached out with my power, trailing lines from my hands that weakly grabbed the ledge above, turning my so I’d hit it feet first. My back leg hit the rail, and I pushed against it, my movement forcing my up and over. With my forward leg, I kicked the railing and sprung clear. The force swirled around me and Vette screamed from behind. Maybe she got caught in the vortex, I don’t know. I didn’t look back, I was spinning too much to see and there was a soldier on the landing pad aiming his rifle at me.

My lightsaber was in my sleeve, so I could reach it. It snapped to life just as he started shooting. They all went everywhere except the one I bounced into the landing pad. Then I hit him, saber and shoulder first. He was hot from where it cut and then his back hit the landing pad and I bounced off him and rolled and it was AMAZING! I crouched there for a moment breathing heavily. In my head, I tried to remember everything as it happened.

“Hey, uh, little help?” someone called from across the pad. I glanced and saw Vette hanging from the railing upside down. The two humans lay on the ground beside each other, clutching their heads. I first thought they had landed on their heads, until I saw the two resistance fighters pointing rifles at them. A third one pointed his up at Vette.

“Hands in the air, twi’lek,” he growled in a voice I’ve heard somewhere but don’t know where. All three had their backs to me. I could just sneak down and slice them in the backs, but I’d have to take out Vette’s one last. He was further forwards and the other two would see me. Hang on, why do I care about stealth? I’m Sith!

“Yeah, wanna be a bit more specific?” Vette called down to him, her arms dangling down limply, like her lekku. They sort of flopped in the breeze

“Very funny. We’ll see how much you’re laughing when Zixx gets hold of you?” he sneered.

“Why, does he tickle?” I cracked a laugh before I could stop it. He spun around, looking right at me. Oops.

He turned his rife to point at me but really slow. I leapt at the man, slow too but faster than him. I flew down to his right as his rifle started blasting the ledge, grabbed his head with both hands and used him like a pivot. His neck crackled as the spiny bits inside all came free and loose. Landing to its left, I aimed and punched a wall of force into his falling body. The dead rebel went flying, smashing into the other two. I darted behind my wall, crimson snapping to life in my hand. The body hit one, wrapping around and dragging him to the floor. The other dodged and pointing his rifle at me. I was almost there when he pulled the trigger. Green light flashed and his head disappeared, leaving two blue lekku flopping to the floor. He fell over sideways. Huh, I didn’t even hit him.

I looked around but didn’t see anyone else who could’ve. Vette was upside down behind me, blasters strapped to her sides. The two ex-prisoners still lay beside each other, hands over their heads. Slowly, they glanced around but didn’t see the shooter either.

“Hey,” Vette called from up in the banner, “little help?” I started to her, but something popped into my head.

“Ooh,” I paused, for effect, “what’s up?” She looked at me as if I’d just puked all over her bed. Aww: okay, I’ll let you down now. Then her gaze shifted to look at something behind me. Oh, are they getting back up?

“What’s up is three hours of stakeout, learning their routines and patterns going up in smoke,” she said, with a deeper voice and a Kaas accent. Wait, no she didn’t: it came from behind me.

I spun around and saw a tall, shadowy and a bit scary man, who looked scruffy out of unform. He wore a pair of casual looking trousers and top, with a harness over it to hold his pack and rifle. He’d swapped the shiny black boots for some dull faded ones, and they looked like he’d walked across a planet in them. I recognised him from the circle eyepiece prosthetics and sharp jaw: it was Cipher Nine.

He also had a friend, a short bumpy woman wearing Mandalorian armour that looked a bit like Zul’s. Ooh, maybe he had tamed a wild mandalorian to serve as his stalwart companion. Wait, something’s wrong. She felt all squiggly, her force sense juddering about.

“Why are you all squiggly?” I asked her. She stared at me, all silent and creepy and then slid her helmet off. Oh, I uh I guess that’s why. She’s dead.

I mean, she looked dead, all white and everything, but she stood beside him, silent and worrying. She was a Rat-attacki, a human who died and got buried in the wilds and came back to life because of hungry Sith spirits.

I made a sound that might have sounded like a squeak but I wasn’t scared at all, it was drawing breath for a force scream, and might’ve taken a step back to get better range. I wasn’t scared, nope not at all.

She smiled and purred the word, “Brains.” I kicked against the ground and the force carried me up to the canopy. I landed and wobbled as the fabric took my weight. It also loosened around Vette’s boot. She dropped unceremoniously into Caimon’s outstretched arms. I don’t know if he moved fast or just stood there before she fell and waited, but it was very supernova-ey.

“Please come down before someone spots you. My associate is a Ratattaki, native to the planet Ratatak. She is very much alive, to my eternal chagrin.” Oh, okay then. So, she’s not an evil monster here to feast on naughty acolytes. That’s good. What does chagrin mean?

“It means happiness. Y’know, like when you grin,” Vette answered before I could ask. The Cipher’s brow twitched. Maybe it didn’t mean what he thought it meant. Slowly, she slid out of his grasp, regaining her feet. I hopped down, landing beside her with a whumph of power slowing my fall.

Cipher Nine set out a breath through his nose, then glanced around as if spying the fallen prisoner I’d broken free for the first time. They were slowly getting to their feet, looking somewhere between dazed, stunned and horrified.

“Right, you, you,” he gestured at them, “get in that speeder." he thumbed back to the ledge where i'd killed the first Republic man. had there been a shuttle on it? Actually, I think there was. "When you get the signal, fly to Sobrik and report to Lieutenant Malavai Quinn. Do not leave before then, or your former allies will shoot you down.”

“My lord, would you be so kind as to accompany me into their command centre. I suspect that with the ruckus outside, they have made arrangements.”

“Wouldn’t it be more useful to hold this door then, if it’s the only way in?” I asked. It made sense to me. Let the cipher and his rat-attacki friend go in and do their secret spy stuff while Vette and I held the base off.

What’s wrong, not man enough? The mandalorian sneered.

“No, I’m a boy.” Vette smirked from over the rat-attacki’s shoulder. Wait, was that meant to have been an insult? Was I supposed to get angry at that?

“We cannot be certain it is the only way in, and even if it were, a fast insertion and extraction suit us better than a drawn firefight with us in a killzone,” Cipher Nine interjected. Okay, I have no idea what a ‘killzone’ is, but anything will kill in it sounds bad.

“Okay, so we go in bearing everything,” I agreed, drawing my lightsaber. I’m not sure when I put it away, maybe when I leapt up on the canopy. The Rat-attacki foxed me with a lopsided grin.

“Bet I got more than you,” she cooed, leering strangely but she’s wrong. No-one can kill more than a Sith. Just watch, I’ll show her.

“You’re on!” I burst forwards into the command centre, lightsaber in hand and ready for slaughter. I’m gonna win, you’ll see.

The petite figure stirred in the large bed, slowly drifting back towards consciousness. Whiskey colored eyes fluttered open after a moment only to be driven shut by the pale amber glow from the wall sconces which was too much for them. She tried to reach out with the Force, but she was weak and it strained at her mind to do so. She opened her eyes again, this time ready for the gentle light in the room. Pale hands brushed the caffa colored locks away from her face and rubbed her temples in an attempt to dull ache in her head from trying to use the Force when she apparently wasn’t quite ready to. Rhianna frowned, not recognizing the strange room that had the slightly musty smell of one seldom used. A guest bedroom she assumed, but had no idea whose house she was a guest in.

She felt exhausted, but sensed she’d been sleeping for a while. She slowly sat up in the strange bed, aware that the cool satin sheets were caressing a lot of bare skin as she studied her surroundings in an attempt to get her bearings. Rhianna closed her eyes and focused, pushing past the gentle throbbing in her head as she searched her memory until it came to her. One of the Dread Masters’ had returned as a Force ghost and was stirring up trouble in the Dark Temple. Knowing she’d handled her share of apparitions in the past, Darth Marr and the Dark Council called upon her expertise to deal with the situation before things got out of hand. It had been a test of her Force walking abilities and pushed her to her very limits. She’d been successful thanks to the combined efforts of the other Sith present lending her their energy, only this time she banished the ghost instead of binding it to her, but the struggle had been taxing and she’d been terribly weakened in the process. The last thing she could clearly remember was forcing the spirit back to the nether where it belonged….then nothing.

Since she hadn’t been alone at the Temple, Rhianna figured one of the others must’ve brought her to their home. She felt her cheeks warm slightly as she considered her current state of undress. Hopefully luck was with her and the Wrath had taken her to the Darksun estate. Rhianna didn’t know her very well, but she seemed to be an honorable sort and held Marr’s respect. Plus, the Wrath had children and Rhianna loved to be around younglings, especially during the holidays since it always reminded her of her own happy childhood…..well happy until her family had been torn apart by slavers. She sat quietly for a few moments listening for sounds of the house’s inhabitants and hearing none. No sounds of overexcited children running around wondering what they’d receive under the Life Day tree, no curious faces poking in the doorway. Disappointed, Rhianna realized she couldn’t possibly be at the Darksun estate. Force help me if Ravage or Mortis brought me home, she sighed then visibly cringed as she remembered who else had been there, or worse yet…..Vowrawn. Oh please let it not be him!

She sank back against the headboard, rubbing her temples as she pondered her situation when her nose caught the faint smell of something delicious and her stomach reminded her she probably hadn’t eaten for at least a day. Deciding to investigate in hopes whoever brought her to their home had planned to feed her, Rhianna carefully eased her protesting body out of the bed and headed into the adjoining refresher. She smiled at the luxurious bathtub, envious of the owner since she didn't have one installed in her new flat yet. She spotted a large black bathrobe hanging on the opposite door and as soon as she touched it, Rhianna knew exactly where she was. She might be too weak to probe for Force signatures, but she could easily feel Marr’s on that very personal item she was touching. Having similar views as the Dark Council leader, they developed an agreement of sorts after he spoke with her in his offices the day she defeated Thanaton. Not really a friendship or partnership, but more of an alliance and he became like a mentor to her. Marr was one of the few people Rhianna trusted……as much as she was capable of at least. Relieved, she was able to relax and freshen up before seeking her host out. She hadn’t seen her clothing anywhere in the bedroom and since she certainly didn’t want to go traipsing around Marr’s home in her underwear, Rhianna snatched his robe off the hook and put it on, the soft garment dwarfing her short, willowy frame. Finding no brush in any of the drawers or cabinets, she settled for finger combing the tangles out of her wavy hair before leaving the refresher.

Following the wonderful smells, Rhianna walked along the hallway looking around for some clue as to who the master of the house was. But while decorated with many priceless and beautiful things, there were no personal touches at all. She also noted that there were no Life Day decorations anywhere to be seen. I must’ve missed it, she mused sadly. Life Day had always been special to her as a child since it was the rare time her family splurged on anything. Her parents saved every spare credit for months in order to give each of their children a gift and in turn she and her twin had worked hard to make a present for their parents. She was hit with the familiar pang of sadness that always came with thoughts of her family and what had happened to them, but at least this year she had her twin back thanks to Dekkyn Varlok and despite being entrenched in opposing factions, she and Roland communicated frequently and had planned to meet on Nar Shaddaa later in the week to exchange gifts. She’d call her brother once she found out where her belongings were and give him well wishes for the holiday.

With a sigh, she made her way down the staircase to the main level of the house, keeping a tight grip on the rail since her body was already growing fatigued. She heard a quiet noise that sounded like it could be a utensil sc****** against a plate and walked towards it. She spotted an open doorway and found her host sitting alone at the dining table having dinner. It was at that moment that Rhianna took in the sight few people probably ever saw, Marr without his famed mask. His skin was so white it was nearly grey and there were shadowy marks along his cheekbones and circles under his orange flecked dark eyes, but overall it wasn’t the terrifying visage the rumors proclaimed it to be. Whatever depths he’d gone into exploring the mysteries of the Dark Side of the Force, it hadn’t disfigured him as it had Lord Zash.

It would be difficult for someone to discern his age since he had no hair and any wrinkles would be concealed by the shadows, but based on all the files Thanaton had kept on the other members of the Dark Council, Rhianna knew he was at least sixty. She had to admit though, even without the usual armor he war, Marr’s broad frame still cut an imposing figure and was impressive for a man his age. No, he wouldn’t win any Mister Galaxy contests and many would be troubled by the obvious signs of Dark Force corruption, but she’d been forced into intimacy with some hideously disgusting men during her time as a slave and Marr’s looks barely registered in comparison. What did register with her was the feast on the table and her stomach growled loudly in appreciation, the sound causing the object of her speculations to look up.

“Imperius,” he acknowledged softly, his deep voice free from distortion, “I intended to wake you in a few hours. Help yourself, you must be starving.”

“I think you can call me Rhianna at this point……and please don’t,” she insisted when he started to cover his head with the hood of his robe. “There’s no need for it.”

“You certain?”

She nodded, then sat across from him, her tired body happy to be off its feet. “I am quite famished and this smells wonderful. How long have I been out?”

“Nearly thirty-eight hours now,” he answered as she sliced off a generous portion of the roast and slid it onto her plate. “You collapsed at the Temple….”

“I figured as much,” she sighed before taking a bite. Murmuring her delight, she savored the rich flavor for a moment before it dawned on her. “Then that means today is Life Day,” she uttered thickly after swallowing, looking over to her host for confirmation.

“It is.”

“Thank the stars I didn’t miss it! But wait…….you don’t have any decorations up,” she observed, then instantly felt guilty. Insensitive idiot, she chided herself, Maybe he has his reasons. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I didn’t mean-”

“Do not concern yourself,” he waved her apology off. “It’s just another day to me and since I rarely entertain guests in my home, I don’t bother with the nonsense.”

“It isn’t nonsense,” she muttered defensively, reaching for the water goblet as she thought about how festive her place had looked for the past few weeks.

“It’s a waste of time and energy better spent working towards the Republic’s defeat,” he contradicted, folding thick arms across his broad chest, his eyes daring her to tell him otherwise.

“Well aren’t you just a regular old Scrooge,” Rhianna smirked as she popped another forkful of roast into her mouth.

“I’m a what?”

“A Scrooge,” she repeated thickly after swallowing, “Haven’t you ever read A Life Day Carol? Lord Ebenezer Scrooge…..Apprentice Cratchit……the spirits of Life Day. That ring any bells?”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You should read it sometime. It’s one of the classics and a good book…..everyone should read it. I’ll bet you have a library in this place, but if not, I’ll lend you a copy.”

“I don’t have time to read stories,” Marr dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.

“You should make time,” Rhianna insisted, scooping a large spoonful of mashed turnips onto her plate, “Everyone deserves some time to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. I’m not even at my home for the holidays and yet it’s still decorated. After finding out I’d be traveling, I made sure to exchange gifts with my companions and made plans with my brother. Would it really kill you to spend some time reading? Or maybe put out a few festive candles or put up a tree so this house actually looks like a home?”

“It might.”

“Like I said…..you’re a Scrooge. At least you have a nice dinner spread out here…..”

“The staff insists,” he admitted, “And I did give them the rest of the day off.”

“So maybe you’re not a total loss…….still, some decorations would work wonders here.”

“Don’t tell me you actually buy into all this holiday drivel?!”

“I do,” she beamed, her eyes twinkling, “Trees, tinsel, lights, mistletoe, decorations, presents…….I love it all…….even the ugly Life Day sweaters. Talos gave me one with a Wookiee on it last year that has faux fur, sparkly eyes, and a little jingle bell on its hat!”

“It sounds revolting and you willingly wear that thing?!”

“Of course!” she replied, “It’s a long standing tradition after all.” Then a giggle bubbled out of her as a picture of Marr wearing a Life Day sweater popped into her head.

“Perish the thought,” he told her, having picked up on that image in her head.

“Oh come on…..it’s fun and would be a lot more festive than what you’re wearing right now,” she pointed out.

“Oh and my bath robe is considered festive?” he shot back dryly, his mouth twitching in a brief smile.

“If it were red it could be,” she shrugged, pausing to grab a large berry tart, “and sorry about helping myself to your robe, but I figured it was better than wandering around in my underwear……which is festively red thank you very much.”

“I noticed the color when I undressed you. It’s quite becoming.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t have looked,” she muttered, averting her eyes as she felt that blush creep back up.

“You are deluded if you truly believe that and I highly doubt anyone would ever describe me as a gentlemen. I am Sith after all,” he reminded her, sounding amused, “Besides, how was I supposed to get your clothes off if I didn’t look? They were soaked and I thought you’d sleep better without them. Would your Lord Ebenezer have shown the same consideration?!”

“He probably would’ve taken advantage,” she snorted, conceding his point, “I do appreciate not sleeping in wet clothes and better you undressing me than one of the others.”

“Vowrawn offered to take you to his home,” he told her, schooling his face as his eyes watched her closely for a reaction.

“Urgh, now I’m doubly grateful to be here,” she laughed, “So where is my stuff? I can’t exactly walk out the front door wearing your bath robe.”

“You shouldn’t leave for another couple of days at least,” Marr warned, his expression returning serious again, “You were severely weakened and it’ll take you weeks to get your strength back to normal. There are too many ambitious Sith out there wanting a seat on the Dark Council that would take advantage of your current state. You are much safer here.”

“Thank you,” she replied, knowing he was right about that. It was the very thing she hated about Sith politics……too many of their brethren were focused on ousting each other instead of trying to better the Empire. It was that shared sentiment and desire to put the good of the Empire above all things that forged her alliance with the man currently seated across from her.

“Your Force walking ability is rare and no one could have done what you were able to at the Temple. Few would’ve even been willing to try, but you didn’t hesitate,” Marr acknowledged, impressed with the young woman and her unwavering loyalty. “Your keen intelligence and thirst for knowledge make you perfect for your position as keeper of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge and I’d hate to lose you on the Council.”

“You flatter me,” she bowed, unused to any sort of compliment from her peers on the Council.

“I speak the truth,” he bowed in return, “As for your clothing, I had the garments laundered and they’re hanging in the wardrobe in your room. You’re welcome to use the shower or even the bath if you wish.”

Rhianna grinned, recalling that marvelous tub in the refresher, “Well, I’m full so I think I’ll take you up on that offer right now in fact.”

“You did eat enough for a small army,” Marr raised a brow, wondering if that was typical for her.

“Well I hadn’t eaten in two days,” she reminded him as she stood. “Just for that, I’m going to hog up your refresher by taking a very long, hot bath.”

“There’s probably some scented bubbles in the cabinet if you like that sort of thing.”

“I do very much, thank you,” she smiled, a little surprised he’d have something like that. Then a wicked gleam flashed in her eyes as they met Marr’s, “I’ll consider it a Life Day present from old Enenezer himself.”

He shook his head at the cheeky young woman, but couldn’t stop the smile from forming as she retreated from the room and he found himself speaking before he could stop it, “Happy Life Day…….Rhianna.”

Hope no one minds the liberties I took with Darth Marr and his appearance. I did some research but couldn’t really find much about what he looked like under the mask other than the brief snippet of rumor on Wookiepedia.

The black robed figure paced in the master bedroom, his orange flecked gaze narrowed at the refresher door. His guest had been in there for two hours and he was beginning to wonder if she’d fallen asleep. He was tempted to knock, but didn’t think it would be heard over the music playing. What if she did fall asleep? Cursing the pitfalls of houseguests, especially ones that were temporary invalids, and annoyed that his peaceful evening was being disrupted, Marr was sorely tempted to barge in on her and in the very least turn the music down. Not that he objected to the orchestral renditions of Lifeday carols, he just preferred the quiet. Finally he decided to just go in since the last thing he needed was to have the Dark Council’s Sphere of Sith Knowledge drown in his bathtub. He opened the door and a splash of water immediately caught his attention. His gaze honed in on the soft trickle of water and took in the very pleasing sight of water running down Imperius’ nude body.

“I warned you I was going to hog the tub for a bit,” she grinned, a slight flush kissing her pale cheeks as she reached for the towel hanging next to the bathtub.

Marr found himself unable to look away, “That you did, Imperius……I was just making sure you hadn’t drown.”

“Now that might cause a scandal,” she laughed, those whiskey eyes twinkling at him, “and my dear Lord Scrooge……if you’re going to stare at me naked, you can at least address me as Rhianna.”

“Not just a scandal, Rhianna. I’d also have to deal with the Council’s bickering over who takes your place.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to put you through that,” she tossed back with a snort as she carefully stepped out of the tub, the warm water having made her a little lightheaded.

Marr saw her waiver and caught her when her knees buckled. “Let’s not have you crack your skull open either,” he muttered, trying not to notice how nice those firm breasts felt pressed against his chest and failing miserably.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her hands clutching his robe while she waited for the lightheadedness to pass, “I think I stood up too fast. I’m still feeling a little run down and the hot bath didn’t exactly help with that.”

“Should’ve taken a cold shower instead.”

“Nah, the hot water felt good for the aches,” Rhianna smiled up at him, the twinkle back in her eyes as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her abdomen, “and speaking of cold showers…….”

“Not an unusual occurrence when a man has a naked woman in his arms,” Marr defended himself.

“Ah, but you’re not a typical man,” she challenged.

“That may be, but I’m still a man nonetheless,” he reminded her, his voice becoming huskier when he felt her ******s harden against his chest. That sign of arousal genuinely surprised him since most women were intimidated by him and he knew his face hadn’t been considered attractive in decades. Both curious and interested in this rather unexpected development, he boldly ran a hand up her side, his thumb brushing one of those sensitive peaks and gave a low chuckle when he felt her passion flare through the Force, “and it seems like I’m not the only one affected by this.”

“Question is, what are you going to do about it?” she taunted, her voice a sultry promise. Then she groaned, arching her back as his palm closed over her breast. “By the Force, Marr……oh….that feels nice…..”

“If you’re going to make those sexy little sounds when I touch you, my dear Rhianna,” he murmured in her ear, “then you can you can at least address me as Darius. In fact, I look forward to making you cry it out in pleasure.”

“I look forward to that too……Darius,” she sighed as his mouth brushed the sweet spot just under her ear, her hands clinging to his broad shoulders when her knees went weak for a different reason than just a moment ago.

The conversation ended then, his mouth meeting hers in a searing kiss as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He shed his robes, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful young seductress watching him, that molten gaze raking hotly over his naked body. Then that delightful tongue darted out to wet her full lips as they curved upwards and his need burned even hotter in anticipation of claiming that body with his own. However he knew how weak she still was and concern stilled him when he started to climb into the bed.

“You’re still recovering,” he managed, his voice sounding unusually raw, “Are you certain you’re up for this?”

“Well I don’t think I’m up to performing acrobatics or any Force kinks, but I’m pretty sure I can handle a simple romp in the sheets.”

“Oh my dear Rhianna……if it’s simple, I’m not doing my job,” he murmured as he leaned down to brush his mouth on her neck, his voice a caress that sent another wave of desire shooting through her and she felt moist heat pooling between her thighs.

For once, Rhianna didn’t have a snarky comeback as his mouth and hands continued to work their magic all over her body. Then he settled his hips between her thighs and entered her with one powerful stroke, her hoarse voice screaming his name in ecstasy as he filled her completely. After that, the only sounds coming from either of them were pleasured moans that eventually led to cries of fulfillment.

Much later, a sated Rhianna lay sprawled over Darius’ large form as the dark lord stroked her thick caffa colored tresses, both of them content to lay there tangled in the cool satin sheets.

“We soooooo have to do that again when I have my strength back,” she sighed against his smooth chest, cursing the fact she was still so weak.

“I certainly wouldn’t object,” Darius chuckled, still working to fathom the fact that a woman willingly had sex with him and how badly he’d wanted it. Over time he’d repressed those desires and didn’t think he was capable of them anymore. How wrong he’d been.

“Good, just let me rest up a bit first……..but if you object to me staying in bed with you, you’ll just have to carry me back to mine,” she smiled as she met his gaze, “Because I am simply too worn out now to move a muscle.”

“I am not going to apologize for that.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” she murmured sleepily, “and it was definitely worth it.”

I couldn’t find a name for Darth Marr so I gave him one. I hope no one minds too terribly….

Ta'er was attractive, and she knew it. Although she was short, her waist was curved, her hips generous and sensuous. Her full breasts, though usually covered in an agent's uniform or a long coat, would be enough to seduce any man. Her short, spiky blond hair and sparkly light blue eyes were equally alluring, but she found that men tended to miss those features in favor of her other ones.

When Zakuul brought war to the Republic and Empire, and subsequently a treaty was signed, Ta'er was unwilling to suffer through it. She decided to do something about it, and found others who would–a tall, leggy red-headed smuggler named Cadi and a dark-haired, olive-skinned bounty hunter named Saranna.

Working on Zakuul had been hard at first, but after some time Ta'er stumbled on the perfect opportunity for subterfuge, almost without trying.

The Zakuul Knights who guarded the information center in one of the upper city divisions were sequestered away from the population without outside contact, in order to prevent accidentally slipping out state secrets. They were only allowed to rotate out once every six months, meaning they got lonely. Their only contact with the outside was the training orders their superiors sent them via holo each month.

Standing outside the information center, Ta'er watched the messenger walk inside, hand the datachip with the training holo on it to the Knight sitting at the desk, and leave. Ta'er smirked and, as the messenger walked by her, palmed his access card without him even noticing. Now, to get to work.

* * *

Bronus, the Zakuul Knight stationed at the desk, checked his chrono. It had been a month since their last delivery of training holos. The messenger should be arriving any time now–ah, there.

The messenger was different than last month's, but that wasn't unusual. She wore a tight wrap around her hair, leaving its color and length unnoticed. She wore a visor over her eyes, too; he couldn't tell what she looked like. But that wasn't his business. She pulled the holodisc out of her carryall and handed it to Bronus. He signed for it and thanked her. She smiled, nodded, and left. But before she reached the door, she turned to glance at him.

"The guy who gave me the disc said you should watch that ASAP," she said. "Don't know why, though."

Bronus frowned, waited for her to leave, and then hit the "lockdown" key. All the doors magnetically sealed and the building's automated sensors activated. He took the disc back to the rec room, where the other Knights were lifting weights or practicing Force skills.

"Listen up, guys," Bronus said. "Apparently we're supposed to watch this now. Came straight from command."

"Put it in," said one of the other guys.

Bronus activated the holoprojector on one side of the room, bringing up a full-color vid that took up one wall. He sat down with the others to watch it.

Three figures came on-screen, all three female. Bronus' gut churned. One, a blonde with ample bosoms and hips that wouldn't quit, wore a black thong and white cropped top that left her toned belly bare. Another, an olive-skinned brunette, wore a blue, very tight-fitting bra and a thong. The third, a red-haired woman, was all booty and she wore a black, tight-fitting leotard that also ended in a thong.

"Whoa, kriff," one Knight gasped.

The three women walked center-screen, activated a music player, and began stretching. The olive-skinned girl adjusted her thong as the holocam zoomed in on her booty. She pulled the thong's waistband away from her body, allowing an even better view of her rear, and snapped the waistband sharply back into place. The cam shifted to focus on the redhead, who was bouncing on her heels, her butt cheeks bouncing invitingly as she did. The blonde stretched her hands high in the air, and then down to touch the floor, providing the 'cam with a straight shot of her rear.

Then, they began dancing in unison. They pumped their firsts into the air, first left hand, then right hand, thrusting their hips in that direction as they did. The cam panned, settling briefly on a view of each of their dancing hips. Then, they got down on all fours and began thrusting their hips back in the direction of the 'cam. All of them had lusty smiles all over their faces.

One Knight started to speak. The others shushed him quickly. The girls each put their right leg up on a bar and stretched, the cam angling along each of their rear ends.

The video continued in this manner for several minutes, and then the girls turned to face the 'cam and began twerking their hips, thrusting their pelvises forward and then jerking their butts backward provocatively. The 'cam began turning, first showing a pelvis thrusting forward, and then a booty shooting back. Bronus thought he was going to swallow his tongue, and he barely noticed a stream of drool rolling down his chin.

* * *

Ta'er crept quietly past the guard room and chuckled as she watched the guys take in the 'vid. She had to admit, she and Cadi and Saranna had done a great job on it. The 'vid had about five minutes left, but if she knew men–and she did–they'd probably watch it at least once more. Quickly, she snuck into the data center and downloaded some of the most damaging info she could find.

This should mess with the treaty pretty well.

She snuck back out the front door, the sounds of music from the 'vid still filling her ears. She met Saranna and Cadi down on the street. Each of them was dressed in an ankle-length trench coat and a head wrap. She smirked, held up the disk, and nodded. Grinning, the other two nodded and followed her off.

Inside, the Zakuul Knights continued to ogle the three women they had no idea had just stolen the information they'd been charged with guarding. If Ta'er had to guess, they'd probably be permanently reassigned after this–if Vaylin didn't get a hold of them.

@Alaurin: Thanks for the comments, I really appreciate the Cierra comment, given that I went through at least twelve drafts for that one.

Nice to see more of your SI, you tease with them yet only briefly have them show up (Rhianna and Zyr'anna) [EDIT: no innuendo intended].

As always: great characterisation, especially with Darth Marr. I also liked the setup, the slow reveal of her host after concerns as to who it may be, and the tying in of a Christmas carol, though I would have thought it more in line with the Republic’s ideology.

@Yoshiralphelan: Well, that’s one way to distract the guards but doesn’t it mean that the knights of Zakuul now have full body shots including faces of your characters? Uh, great setup, believable characterisation and interesting solution to the necessity of stealth. (somehow doubt we’ll see Solid Snake try anything like that EDIT: I was wrong.)

I leapt down the steps to the speeder point in the gnarls, a set of med-kits in my backpack. Not ten minutes planetside and they’re already shoving me into the firing line: and here I thought Tython would be dull. My training blade bounced on its strap, half-sliding down my bare arm as I landed. Grabbing the unpowered blade, I pushed its padded shoulder piece back in position. I didn’t slow while I did any of that. I bolted as fast as I could up the hill. Better elevation equals better vantage point. I didn’t worry about any shooters: these beasts were supposed to be primitive tribals.

I could feel the steady gaze of the two Jedi back by the entrance. Apparently, they were more interested in protecting the waypoint than taking the fight to the invaders. I understand wanting to keep the way open for when they get reinforcements, but there’s a group of initiates out there. Don’t know about these guys, but if you have to fly in another padawan from off-world to go rescue them, something gone very wrong.

Charging through the large open field, I saw a pair of razor-backed, hammer-headed brutes on a hill overlooking a crude cage. it looked like they’d made it from driftwood and sinew. Inside was a padawan, a girl maybe half my age in cream-brown training overalls. She lay sprawled on the cage floor, face turned away. At first, I mistook her for a Zeltron or maybe a pureblood with weak heritage, but her skin wasn’t naturally purple-red. They’d beaten her, and they hadn’t spared her face. I doubt she was all that obsessed about her appearance before, but face wounds can really do a number on a teenage girl’s sense of self-worth, especially scars.

Anger, hot and heady, flowed through me. These things had beaten her into unconsciousness, if not to death. My wrath wasn’t just for them. The Jedi guardians on the stairs weren’t even ten minutes away, and they’d let the kid suffer: there’s no way they wouldn’t have felt her pain, or heard her screams.

I burst forwards, the force granting me speed and strength of limb. Blurring at the closest, I brought the blade down hard on the beast’s carapace. My blade squeaked. What the? The raider, aware of me, swept a jagged elbow back. He hit me in the jaw. I went flying, landing flat on my back. I was up instantly, never show weakness to a foe.

Away from the melee, I glanced at my training blade. It was a long metal pole with shock pads running along the blade part. Oh sonuva: she’d swapped it. My training blade was just that, one of the rigged up ones that squeaked when it touched flesh. Great, just what I needed. Looks like I’m doing this the hard way. I dropped the worthless weapon and glanced back at the raiders. The one I’d attacked charged at me, a vibrosword in its stubby claws. The other pointed a blaster at me. Looks like recon didn’t have any intelligence: they’re smart enough to know how those work.

I moved, keeping the charger between his buddy and me. I’m not some hyperthyroid Guid steer: I can’t match the force of his charge, but I don’t have to. The beast gave me everything I needed, it and the force. It swung its sword down at me, momentum slamming through any defence I could muster. I wasn’t where it thought I was. At the last second, I’d darted forwards and left, bringing my fist into its armpit. The thin plates crumpled, shattering inwards under my blow. My hand screamed in pain from the strike, but I ignored it. I’ll deal with any broken bones later.

The raider, distracted and pained by my strike, buried its sword into the mud. I dropped to a crouch and lashed out, my heel slamming into its knee, driving it sideways. The beast howled and I felt the thick bony bits that made its knee shift unnaturally. It went down, leaving its sword standing in the muck. Well, if it’s going spare…

I grabbed the sword, hilt huge in my hand, and plunged it into the raider’s Tee-shaped head. Hot pain spattered over my shoulder. I staggered. I knew this pain: the other one had shot me. I snarled a word no one in the core uses in polite company, but I didn’t let it stop me. I’ve lived with pain all my adult life, and this blaster poke was nothing.

I charged at the beast, zigzagging. It shot half a dozen times, all missing me, until its blaster whined empty. It chucked the pistol at me, missing, and went for the vibrosword strapped to its back. I leapt, turning as I brought my stolen weapon down in a diagonal slash. The sword bit into the beast’s shoulder, sinking deep until it hit its armoured chest-piece. It stuck, the vibrations casting gore out on either side of the wound. I got a face-full of gore. Spitting out the blood that got in my mouth, I pulled up the hem of my sports top and wiped my face with it. No one was here and if they were, they’d be too busy to ogle at my support bra.

I padded down the hill, breathing a bit more heavily than usual. Feels like my right arm’s on fire. I’ll deal with it in a minute, the girl comes first. I hacked open the cage door, throwing it aside with my good arm. The girl didn’t move for any of it, not even shallow chest movements. That’s not good. Kneeling down beside her, I checked her wrist for a pulse: nothing. None on her throat either.

I breathed out and cleared my mind, leaving a hole for the force to fill. It wasn’t much, but enough flowed in and through me. I opened my eyes. Living things have a kind of glow around them, like a halo of colours. I’m been told that’s their force presence, though others call it the aura, the soul and countless other names. What I do know is that it fades pretty quickly at the end of a life cycle and what’s left behind is… hard to look at. Empty in a way that makes me feel empty too. She was empty.

Slowly, I folded her battered, broken arms over her swollen chest. My arm burnt as I picked her up, but I barely noticed. I don’t know her family’s caste, but her spirit should be free. I took her out of the cage, and rested her body in the river. Slowly, she drifted away, with a serenity her captors denied her. Wading back to shore, I knelt down, clearing my mind again. It didn’t work.

I know they say there is no death, that the spirit goes and rejoins the force, but I’m not so sure. I think people die, sometimes badly, and they leave behind people who care for them. Sure, the teachers and other initiates might believe the whole ‘there is no death, only the force’ line, but what about her parents? Telling them their daughter isn’t dead because you believe their spirit is being subsumed into a greater whole is cruel. There is death, and it leaves people behind who hurt. At least I could tell the parents I treated her body well after death, not that I’d ever meet them.

I sighed and opened my eyes. As carefully as I could, I unslung my backpack, avoiding the blaster burn on my shoulder. unzipping the top, I fished out one of the compact medkits She’d given me before I came to Tython. Unstopping the end, I slathered the gooey green ooze over my shoulder. It wouldn’t regrow tissue or reattach limbs but I didn’t need anything so drastic. It was just a burn, and a minor one at that.

Climbing atop the pile of rocks behind the corpses, I surveyed the islands around. There were six other cages, just like this one. Did the creatures bring them or make them here, and why? There’s no way the Jedi would have let anything near their initiates if they tried to kidnap them, so how did they get here? Questions later, initiates now. The nearest cage was just on the far side of the river. I could even see the twelve-year-old boy kneeling inside. At least he still lived.

They had beaten him but he didn’t look terrified, instead more serene. On one level it pissed me off, these things wanted to take his freedom, possibly his life, and he just sat there. He could rip the cage apart, trick the raiders into fighting each other or just scare them away but no: he sat there, waiting for someone to help him.

I turned and crept across the bridge, headed for them. Just because the kid was being apathetic about his own life didn’t mean I was leaving him there. Mercy is a worthy trait, especially when morons need a smacking way more than understanding. Peering over the bridge, I surveyed the terrain around the cage.

The cage was down by the riverside, with three of these things in front of it. Drops of fresh blood spattered the front of the cage. So maybe I was wrong about the kid, maybe he had fought back a little. I drew the reclaimed vibrosword but left it switched off. The hum would give me away and if this messed up, I’d be in the middle of a melee with everything else bigger and stronger than I am. That’s not a healthy place to be.

I leapt off the highest rock in the formation and fell, down onto the closest raider. Lines of pain screamed along my calves and thighs as its roughened hide gouged them. I landed on his neck and my *ahem* sixty kilos staggered the beast. I turned as it stumbled forwards, digging my knees into either side of its neck. I brought it down, my reverse gripped sword plunging into the soft muscle behind the right raider’s chest-plate. Two went down in near silence, their bodies crashing into the grass. I rolled off the downed raider, weapon slick with its buddy’s blood. The left one spun, fumbling its pistol out of its loincloth. So not touching that when all this is done. Even as I charged at it, it levelled its weapon at me. The force whispered a warning, a gentle tug to the left, guiding my actions. I shifted left as I ran, and crimson shot past my right shoulder. Close enough to strike, I brought the blade across, slicing through its stinky pistol, and its clawed fingers. the raider gurgled as it saw its hand fall apart, pain signals flickering up its nerve system like water in a nearly dry river. I think my blade might have beat the signal to its brain. The raider's body collapsed and i left the gore spattered blade in its skull. There was another one over by the cage.

“Morning,” I whispered to him. He stared at me, eyes wide with fear. Yeah, yeah: I know. The force is life and I shouldn’t kill these things, even if they’re kidnapping Jedi kids and beating them to death. Spare me the memo. I slashed through the sinews holding the cage together. The boy stiffly clambered out, bowed to me in silence and ran

“Follow the path of corpses back to the landing zone,” I called to his departing form. He tripped on a rock. I chuckled as he staggered to keep his footing. Well, that’s one. I’d seen four others earlier, and there were probably more. I headed off for the next one.

Cages two, three and four were no trouble. I snuck past the guards for two of them, freeing the captives while the raiders were distracted, feasting upon some kind of local cat creature. The initiates were all quiet and polite, bowing and fleeing without a word, except for number four. She was a blue near-human child of a feather haired species I’ve never seen before. She’d squawked when she saw me, alerting her captors. They attacked, forcing my hand. Once free, she’d bowed and fled as fast as she could manage, stumbling over rough terrain as she went. You know, one or two was fine, but four silently fleeing initiates was systemic of something. Somehow, I doubt they’ve taken vows of silence. Maybe they’re just not used to seeing the dead.

Cage five was less simple. It was down by the riverside, so no convenient bushes to sneak through and no grass to soften my footsteps. Lucky for me it was beside an unnaturally steep looking hillock, so I could scramble up top for a better view. From it, I saw three raiders: two little ones with pistol over by the cage and a big one by the waterfront. Maybe I should leap on the pair first, take them out before they’re aware of me, and deal with the big one when he closed. No, the big one had what looked like a radio antennae on his back. Where did he get that from: these things were supposed to be primitive. Okay, he has to go first. The two were grunting something to each other, obviously engrossed in something, possibly enough that I could take out the big one quietly before they noticed.

I leapt, vibrosword held overhead. I and buried my blade in empty air. As I landed something big and jagged exploded against my gut, tossing me like an errant mooka. I awkwardly turned in the air, and hit the water on my back. It must’ve seen my reflection!

Cold crisp water clapped over me, leaving my body shivering even as my side burned. Tython’s not cold per say, but mountain streams are and I’m used to way hotter worlds. My body broke out in shivers even as I forced myself back up. The raider grunted something into a receiver with a curly wire ran over his shoulder. Great, now I’ll have the whole raid after me and on top of it all, the little ones were shooting at me. Wait, that gives me a-, water boiled a metre behind me. Stupid, move now think later. Ducking back beneath the waters, I reaching out with the force, I tweaked their aim a bit. The big one howled as plasma burned into its back, slagging the radio system. Maybe that stopped the alert broadcast, maybe it didn’t. All I know is that the big one fell face first into the river.

Then water exploded all around me, and way too close for comfort. Getting my rebellious legs under me, I swam straight for sure. I’ve never been a strong swimmer. Sure, I had lessons as a kid but I haven’t even stepped in a pool larger than a hot-tub for over a decade. So, while it mightn’t have been the most elegant, it was certainly the fastest doggy-paddle to date. Uh, not that this is being recorded, I hope.

I burst out of the water and landed on the right raider. The left found a vibroblade buried in its chest. I brought the right one down, my knees on its collarbone. It squirmed beneath me, gnashing its jaws. I don’t doubt for a moment that it wouldn’t sink its shark-like teeth into my flesh if given the chance. Reaching my hand back, I sent out a pulse of will and felt. The radio raider’s vibroblade hilt smacked my palm with a meaty thud. Turning it in my hands, I sank the borrowed blade into its throat. Blood erupted from the wound, showering my leggings, front and face with gore.

Y’know, there’s a reason why proper Jedi use lightsabers: cauterisation’s definitely the way to go: less brutal, easier to heal and little to no chance of the other guy going into shock. You could say they’re a civilised weapon, though I know a lot of Jedi who would throw a hissy fit over the notion of a ‘civilised’ weapon.

Hauling myself up off the twitching, gurgling raider, I retrieved the borrowed blade from its throat and took its head with one clean stroke. The knot of tension in the force faded away with the beast, a greater mercy than it had ever shown others. Turning away from the grisly remains behind me, I slashed the cage door clean off.

The initiate inside, a twi’lek boy with eyes the size of moons stared at me. Oh, I was so not in the mood for more terrified bowing. I kicked down the door, hiked my thumb back towards the waystation and stormed off. I heard him scrabble out of the cage, and then scarper off. One more cage, then I’m done with the kids. Only problem was that it’s over on the far side of the river. I looked down over my waterlogged clothes

My clothes were a mess. I’d worn a low-cut blue sports-top and stretch pants combo to this world, and they weren’t standing up to anything. Gashes and tears showed off even more of my coppery skin and the few ridges they normally covered. Mud and grey-black blood spattered my clothes and body. Well, it’s not as if they can get any worse. I waded into the river and swam across.

As I approached the far side, I stayed in the water for a bit longer, swimming around the coastline to scout out the last cage. There were three beasts, with a pair of Manka cats. They would smell the blood on me the moment I got upwind of them. I glanced at one of the nearby trees, the leaves drifting away from me. That would mean that I’m-, ah. The faint but growing growls rumbled through the air. Well, that could’ve gone better.

I leapt out from the water, the force flowing through me as I spun. Landing in the middle, I lashed my vibroblade out as I finished my spin, dropping into a crouch. The acrid smell of burnt flesh and ozone filled the air as two of the raiders fell. Surging up, I brought the blade up in a lunging slash, catching one of the cats in the jaw. The strike threw the beast up and back, turning it in the air. Whirling, I brought the blade across in one fluid motion, forcing the remaining raider back. Jerking out of my spin, I lunged to the right, skewering the other cat.

Turning, I ducked under the last raider’s swiping slash, tucked my blade close and lunged at its neck. It parried, just in time, taking my blade out far beyond anywhere it could be useful. I let it, instead spinning inside its reach and ducking through its lumbering legs. Trailing my blade behind me, I hear the crackle and smelt burnt leather before I finished my spin and saw where I’d struck it. The raider collapsed, clutching its inner thigh. I took a moment to put the tip through the back of its skull, killing it instantly. The Jedi may serve life, but better a clean death than a lingering live in perpetual agony.

Sighing, I untied the bindings on the cage door, setting the little Kel’dor girl free. She stared at me as I wrenched the door free. Stars, I must look like some kind of monster straight out of Bogan. Then she surprised me. She rushed forwards and latched herself around my waist, cold facemask pressed against my bare stomach. I- well, guess not, after all. I curled around her, holding her for as long as she held me. That was important. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I recall how the cosplayers at Fantasialand on Brentaal IV aren’t allowed to let go of the small children hugging them until they do, because they don’t know what’s really going on or how much the kid needs it. What may be a Zeltron college student working a thankless summer job to us is Princess Fiara from Rose Red to a small child. Sometimes a kid just needs to know their hero is close.

I held her for a good few minutes until she finally let go. Then she bowed, pointed up the kill and ran off to the west, to the safety of the waystation. Then I headed up the hill, to find out what she’d pointed out.

About halfway up, I saw two padawans, a dark skinned human woman and a tan Zabrak man, and they were arguing. Usually, Jedi arguments are fairly tame affairs: there’s quiet discussion, usually seated and even if they don’t reach an agreement, they accept the wrong side has points. It’s unbelievably dull. This one wasn’t. Sure, the guy was doing Jedi 101, calm rational argument but the woman wasn’t playing with his ball. She was snapping at him and so spiked on adrenaline she jittered. A flesh raider corpse lay a few metres away, battered and bloodied from more blows than I could easily count. Great, none of them had ay combat training whatsoever. As I got closer, I started making out what they said.

“He should be resting in the Jedi temple but if you’re determined to press on, I can help him alone.” Huh, who are they talking- Oh. I’d been wrong. There was a third padawan, a pale skinned human lying between the two, his breaths shallow.

“Give him the last of the Kolto if you have to, we’ll fight again soon,” the woman insisted, pacing in front of him. I approached, my boots squelching against the rocky slope.

“Hey, good to see another - by the force!” she blurted as she turned. The Zabrak stared right at me, his hand trembling on the wounded guy’s chest. Kolto sluiced out of the pack he’d dropped, onto the ground. Great, their surprise was going to send him into shock.

I glanced at a nearby pool of water. Yellow eyes peered back, nestled in my angular almost to the point of looking gaunt face. My dark-scarlet locks swept back, the back still tied securely in a braided bun, though the swim had freed a few strands. I’d tied the rest into braids behind my brow ridges. What, the last guy I trained with had a thing about not cutting hair.

“What? Is there something wrong with my hair?” I asked, turning my head side to side to check. Yeah, I know its fine, but they might want some out rather than admitting they’re staring because of my race. By the time I turned my gaze back to them, the woman had a training saber held awkwardly in both hands.

“Sith!”

“Woah,” I stalled, hands out in front. Okay, so that worked more on Nerf steers than padawans, but she was about as smart as that. Hey, what are the chances that a pureblood on fricking Tython being Sith, “there’s no need for any more violence. I’m here to find you for a Jedi, uh a Master Relnex if I remember correctly.”

“Also, she clearly is a better combatant than both of us. If she wanted, she could have killed us and blamed it on the flesh raiders.” The guy reasoned. Wow, way to make a girl feel special.

“Right, now. what’s going on?” They filled me in.

Long story short, they were arguing over whether to stay together and wait for rescue, or leave their injured friend and go attack more flesh raiders. While I appreciate proactivity, I’ve seen enough dead kids for today. I passed the woman the beacon and the Zabrak another medkit. It’d last long enough for someone to unplug the stick from their butt and came rescue them.

“Hey, you can’t just push us out of all this,” the human protested, shoving the beacon back in my hands. Wow, I really was on the mark with the whole dumb as a nerf thing, huh. I’ve been trained in lightsaber combat since I was seven, and spent the last six years honing my chosen forms. I’m no novice who learned by mimicking Katas with a hundred other teenagers, and look at the state of my gear. You would be slaughtered like the dumb nerf you are.

“Okay, fine. Go down there and slaughter the lot. Who needs weapons or training when you have anger, right?” The human’s face lit up at the kindred thoughts. The Zabrak opened his mouth to protest. I held my hand up to him.

“Give her a minute,” I asked, winking at him. He frowned, but didn’t speak. The human on the floor just coughed a weak chuckle. At least someone understood sarcasm.

“You’re right. Mannaeus, stay with-,” she began, confirming everything.

“Whoa there! So, a literal, blood-spattered Sith is standing in front of you, tells you to go slaughter people and give into your anger and that doesn’t set off any warning bells. Wow, couldn’t possibly be like an allegory or something!” I snapped at her. Yeah I’ll admit it, I’m pissed off, but have you seen the calibre of the people I’m working with? No jury would convict me, just saying. I sucked in a breath and slowly breathed it out through my nose. Still didn’t feel any better. She just stood there, staring at me dumbly. What, did I use too many big words? Ugh, enough is enough.

“Right, you” I stabbed a finger at the reasonable but dim Zabrak, uh Mannaeus, “use the medpack on him. You,” I jabbed a finger at the idiot, “use the beacon. If I don’t see all three of you together at the waystation when I get back there, I’m finding you and I’m slapping you all the way back to the temple… and I won’t care if you’re living or dead! Now, I’m going to go rescue the children you three were supposed to be safeguarding!” I snapped at them, then turned and stormed off. As I stomped down the mountainside, my blood cooled.

Okay, so that hadn’t been the best way to deal with them, but seriously. Thirteen kids had been taken, and the three padawans watching them were that useless. They should have kept the children together as they made their way back to the waystation. They should have sensed the creatures coming from a kilometre away. It’s not like they’re subtle or anything. Case and point, another three of them splashed out of a cave on the far side of the valley. Yes, I can see that far, no I’m not farsighted: it’s normal for most people to see five hundred metres across a lakeside delta valley in clear weather. I need a swim, something to cool my head before I do something I’ll later regret.

Reaching the river below, I waded in and swam over to the cave. There was an injured raider outside, breathing its last few breaths. I couldn’t leave it lying there, it’ll call its buddies back to me, and I’ll have who knows how many arrayed against me in there. It was an evil creature, one who’d think nothing of killing me or kidnapping children, but still. Oh, damn it. Six years ago, this would have never been a problem. Reaching into its mind, I planted a command, simple but ineffable: sleep. The creature’s eyestalks closed, probably for the last time. There, are you happy now? It’s still alive: I didn’t kill the monster. Dredging out of the river, I slipped into the cave, water sluicing inside my boots.

The cave was long, dark and full of the beasts. One thing I found out pretty quickly was that they have terrible night vision and worse hearing. Me on the other hand, mine’re great, and vibroblades don’t give off light. I don’t think any of them even knew I was there up until I met the Bith. Some flesh raiders had restrained him and took turns trying to bash his bulbous head in. Yeah, no. I ran one through before it even knew I was there, and took the other’s head clean off before it activated it’s vibrosword.

The Bith hauled himself off the floor, clutching his side. From the way the too pale blood seeped through his fingers, he might’ve punctured something important. Reaching into my pack, I passed him the last medkit. He jabbered something in a language I didn’t understand, probably Bith. Slowly, he started massaging gooey Kolto over his face, the medicinal fluid slowly sinking into the cuts and bruises.

Footsteps approached from behind, down the tunnel. A man walked along the tunnel, only his silhouette visible against the blue brilliance of his overhead lightsaber. Oh boy, I hope he’s not a bad guy: lightsabers beat vibroblades. He carried on out, up into the cave. Still couldn’t get anything else off him, apart from the dazzling blue blade now just in stabbing range. The silhouette stopped on the precipice and laughed, a dry but melodious sound, like someone sharpening a carving knife on a tuning fork.

“When I got the distress call, I thought it was the Jedi finally coming out of hiding. I wasn’t expecting to see one of your kind here. Oh great, even silhouetted guys who come from caves were at it too. Yeah, I get it. I was born a Pureblood. Wow: many darkside, such evil. A thought popped into my head, too delicious to ignore. Just because he was an evil, child-murdering a55hole doesn’t mean I can’t torment him a little.

“My kind,” I drawled, pouting as I pushed my shoulders forwards and elbows in, exaggerating my breasts, “you mean… a girl?” The darksider just stared and his mouth popped open. His throat bulged nervously. What’s wrong, never seen a half-naked girl flash her cleavage before? Well, he’s definitely never been to Korriban.

His body tensed up like a wire gone taut, his hand moving for his lightsaber. I moved just as fast, one hand grabbing the wrist of his saber hand. The other clumped the front of his tunic, hauling him forwards. I popped up with a flick of my ankles and head-butted him. Okay, that’s an understatement.

My bones are denser than the average human’s, with millennia of evolution and sorcery working on making them almost impossible to break. Likewise, my muscles are woven way more compactly, so Purebloods can lift small speeders while looking only slightly buff. I also have the force flowing through me, giving me a strength and swiftness far beyond normal. So when I say I head-butted him, it wasn’t a simple love tap. It was a full on speeder collision, with explosions, screams and three airlanes closed for a week. It drove him down like a meteorite and he hit the ground about as gently.

I went down with him, hand still clamped around his wrist, just in case. It wasn’t an issue. His head shut down for the night. Slowly, I pried his lightsaber from his tensed fingers, the hilt warm. Oh, it was too irresistible.

I thumbed the activation button. Cerulean light bathed the cavern, the steady thrumming hum becoming my world. It had been far too long; I’d almost forgotten the wobble of the gyroscopic magnetic sheath, even if it was less pronounced than usual.

“Normally I’m against Padawans getting a lightsaber before they’re ready, but with you it might just limit the damage,” someone drawled, shattering my fascination. I killed the blade and turned to see an older Jedi walk up the slope. I glanced back at him, noting the-, what: five, eight, thirteen bodies littering the cave. Wow, when you show it like that it seems kinda excessive. Anyway doesn’t matter right now: he can help.

“Good, you hold this side and get him to a cell. I’ll go after them, they took initiates down there!” The old man didn’t leap to action. Gah, another pointlessly slow old Jedi. I knew there’d be a lot of philosophising but this is ridiculous. There’s literally a time frame here before children are lost to whatever fate worse than death is on the far end of the tunnel.

“How many did you save?” What? Why are you wasting time?

“Six freed, one dead but-,” I started: he didn’t let me finish.

“Tie that with the six Yuon’s padawan got and everyone’s all accounted for.” He rebuffed. Okay fine, so we don’t need to rescue initiates, we still need to… we still need to what? Hurt them? Avenge the dead? Make every last one pay with their lives? Stars I’m worse than the padawan from earlier. At least she was mind numbingly stupid.

The force is life, and if the Jedi serve the force, they must serve life. I breathed out, and let my anger go with it. I am a luminous being, one touched by darkness yes, but not stained by it. The Jedi watched me, a faint, knowing smile on his face. Oh shut up. I don’t need yet another lecture about patience or wasting time looking serene.

“Why don’t you go on ahead, get back to the temple and tell them what’s going on. I’ll stay here and give him a hand.” With who? I only then realised that the Bith was still here. In all the excitement of the last few seconds, I’d completely forgotten him. Either that or I’d knocked the memory plain out of my head.

“You don’t have to invade their camp. Their leader came to us.”

His knowing smile faded as concern furrowed his brow. Kneeling by the unconscious man, . Without a lightsaber blinding me, I could make out his dull workmans clothes, acne-ridden face and greasy brown-black hair.

“This man’s no Jedi – at least, not one of us. I’d call him Sith except the empire doesn’t know where Tython is. Pass me that saber, would you?” I was so taken back by his words I handed him the weapon without complaint.

He looked straight past my brow ridges, my copper skin and sandy-brown eyes. He hadn’t seen a pureblood at all, just another padawan. It was… you know, I don’t even know what it was like. Even back on Uphrades, the normals had been polite but always very aloof. I didn’t need telepathy to hear their grumbled slurs, my normal hearing worked just fine. Before then, I always knew my pedigree marked me apart from everyone else.

“This lightsabre… there’s something familiar about it. Strange.” The Jedi murmured to himself. I didn’t pry. He lost himself in a moments reverie, and then snapped back to reality.

“You held off the attackers by yourself and saved half a dozen initiates with only a practice blade, impressive.”

“You think that’s impressive, just wait until I have a lightsaber,” I eyeing the one in his hand. He chuckled, a warm comforting laugh almost alien in its utter lack of malice.

“This weapon can help us discover who the man was. It’s going to the Jedi council, but maybe he’ll talk and we won’t need to hold it for long.” Well, he wasn’t giving me the weapon now, but I guess I could get behind that reasoning.

“This battle’s over, but we don’t want any more flesh raiders coming through here,” he mused as he closed his eyes and raised a hand towards the tunnel. Yeah right, I’m perfectly fine-. I took a step back as the force flowed around me. It wasn’t as if he was unduly powerful or anything, but what he had, he used. There was no sweeping rumble of power, no surge or eddy of cascading might, just a whisper, a plea to the force, and it answered with a roar. The tunnel just ceased to be, rock filling the void. I just stood there, openly gaping at the elegance, the simplicity just the… beauty in one simple prayer.

“That was… incredible. How did you,” someone whispered reverentially. I think it was me. The master Jedi just smiled beneficently and drawled,

“Spend a few decades practicing and you’ll get it in no time. Now, give me a hand getting these two back to the temple.” I did.

Well, that was a lot gorier than I originally intended. I could make a commentary about how violent the Jedi characters are due to game mechanics, though I suspect the real reason is reality of melee without lightsabers and seeing the latest Quentin Tarantino film the day before yesterday.

anyone here figure out who Blizz's Jedi-man is?

Languss Tuno, smuggler companion.

@Feldraeth- RE: Whee- I like Roan's innocence contrasted with his, well, really cold brutality when you get down to it. He's smarter than a lot of people give him credit for, I'll bet. He had some very astute observations for a kid, like that killing everyone would just point out that they had something to hide.

RE: Off the Shuttle- I remember this quest from my first day in-game. I was so frustrated the game wouldn't let you save all the padawans, lol! Liked the line "What’s wrong, never seen a half-naked girl flash her cleavage before? Well, he’s definitely never been to Korriban." I like your... Knight, I'm assuming? She's interesting to ride around with, and I'm looking forward to seeing more from her.

@Alaurin- RE: Good Morning, Mr. Scrooge- Aww, a happy Imperius! Also, glad you've had the chance to experience Inquisitor story, it's one of my favorites. I like your expansions of Life Day traditions, something I've always struggled to come up with.

RE: An Unexpected Development- Rhianna reacted much more calmly to someone walking in on her in the bath than I would have! Although judging by what happened afterwords, that might have been part of the plan all along... I wonder what sort of impact this will have on Dark Council politics?

@Yoshi- KotFE spoilers, sorry!

@Oliverthefighter: Yep, pretty sure it was that person the moment I heard the voice and mannerisms. Even before then, I was curious as to who thiss mystery Jedi-man could be and he was my top candidate (as in all the others could be killed by one PC or another or were female, and in Leeha Narezz’ case, both)

@Mirdthestrill:

Brutal? Well, he was raised by Sith to be Sith. As for the observation, something that astute is almost certainly from prior experience. At this time Roan doesn't really think of people beyond the Red-yellow-blue categories. Red is an enemy and needs killing, yellow is neutral and needs dominating and blue is an ally who needs to be 'impressed' into staying loyal. Of course, Roan being himself hasn't noticed the quotation marks around impressed. The only people who've escaped this classification so far is Vette and Captain Sarnova, who have done the unthinkable: treated him like a person and not a tool. Finally, no love for the puns? They were especially awful.

Lucida is indeed my Jedi knight. A last minute edit removed her title, which is ‘a Sith Jedi’ because I wanted to slowly reveal her race through interactions with the other initiates and padawans. As for the Korriban jibe, well… she’s been through it and saw a different side that I can absolutely guarantee Roan didn’t see. Telling a bunch of hormone-addled teenagers that passion is vital for power is going to lead to the kind of thing that makes you glad for thick stone walls.

And as for rambling, don’t see that being a problem unless you hit the character limit.

The metal door screeched shut, the fires either side leaving the cloying sticky smell of burning rubber in my nose.

“Stay back or behind me, sweep everywhere and assume everything’s hostile. That includes me if you lose visual contact for more than a few seconds,” Zul warned, dropping into a combat ready hunch, “They don’t use blasters, so stay in the open but out of sight where possible.” She had her jetpack back on, already adjusting for its familiar weight.

I nodded, sheathing my datapad before drawing my blaster. I had one usable arm. Okay, technically the droid had cleared me to use my left, but I didn’t want to chance it. It still stung like mad, but the painkillers Zul gave me dropped the stabbing pr1cks to a dull throb. Shame they didn’t do anything about the itching. It felt like a swarm of burrowing beetles built a nest in the wound. At least I’d pulled my left: losing my right, my dominant hand, would’ve been be unbearable. Zul padded away, sticking to the centre of the access tunnel.

Trying to take my mind off the itching, I thought back to the last time I’d faced the ghosts, technology that co-opted a person’s body, turning them into conduits for some power hungry alien lunatic. They’d gone down hard, each taking a couple of shots before the damage incapacitated them. So super tough, strong enough to lift Zul and her armour with one hand and all linked to some hive mind. No problem, I’m sure I’ll have no trouble what with my one good arm, heavy blaster pistol and armour designed for blaster protection, not melee. Oh yeah, and if they touch me, I’m toast. Their man-machine interface will pass through my cybernetics like a lightsaber through butter. Still, one thing bugged me.

Back at the reclamation base, they’d come at us up on the command platform in force, leaving only one to run out into the desert. They’d focussed on Zul rather than the unarmoured Hael and Golah, or me with my obvious cybernetic augmentation. At the time, I’d thought it was something with their combat algorithms, dealing with the most credible threat first, but Hael, Golah and I all shot at them. We were just as deadly as Zul in that way.

Access storage device: recall fight on the command platform. The fight played on the overlay in my left eye. I knew it. They hadn’t gone for Zul at all. Okay sure, the one possessing Keelah did but she was a distraction. The other two had gone for the console behind her, only engaging when Zul’s proximity defences went off, pulsing everything away in a wash of heated gas. I’d seen Golah use the console when he’d notified Darth Silthar’s next of kin. It linked to the base’s communications suite. They’d been trying to make a call, or send a signal out across Tattooine’s arid airwaves.

As far as I knew, we were the only ones who’d had contact with the Ghost technology, but the Jawas had kept it for quite a while. Who’s to say ours was the only one they’d picked up, and the only one they’d traded. Golah said the first rule of xenoarchaeology was to avoid unleashing unknown technology into a population centre. If they’d gotten to the controls, who knows what could’ve happened. There could be an entire desert full of the cyber-necrotic ghosts. Now that’s a cheery thought. Trying to dislodge it from my head, I followed a few metres behind, turned the corner and… wow.

I’d thought there was just a small village, a couple of caverns housing maybe a dozen people. There were hundreds of buildings: metal prefabs or made from mud bricks and all squashed together like the worst slums on Nar Shaddaa. This was… this was a city. If we had to clear the area building by building, Lokai would die of old age in a core world retirement home long before we finished, assuming we weren’t turned into cyber-necrotic monsters.

In the centre was a huge pillar, with carvings spiralling up its centre. Around this, was a pool of water, and the large metal prefabs all grouped together. If I had to guess, they were community buildings, built from the wreckage of their ship. These gave way to sprawling mud huts, with narrow side streets so winding that even the residents had to get lost in them.

Wait, Optics: magnify 3x. Those’re… If I hadn’t already met the Palawans outside, I’d have sworn they had a cultural fetish over scarification. Every one of them had ritualistic looking scars over their faces, arms and pretty much everywhere exposed. It was kinda creepy. I mean, I knew the overmind controlling them cared nothing for its servants, but even if we somehow managed to cleanse them of the micro-machines and return their minds, they’d bear the marks of servitude forever. Kolto doesn’t do much for scars, just look at how grizzled people in harm’s way can get. Optics: default magnification. Optics: initiate point count in squares Trill-3 through Xesh-9. I got a count back, and felt very, very small.

“Wow, four seventy three, we’re not going to be able to get them all, are we?” I uttered, the weight of the situation really slamming into me. That’s nine forty six hands just waiting to reach out and turn me into four seventy-four. A hand gripped my right shoulder squeezing gently. I glanced left to see Zul.

“No, that’s why we’re using an EMP,” Zul stated, giving me a knowing smirk. I think she was trying to be reassuring, but it just came across as smug. That’s okay, I’ll take a smug smart-a55 for a partner over a thug or psychopath. At least she let me in on stuff now. I gave her a weak smile. Yeah, I know, it all falls on me: no pressure or anything.

“You think they know we’re here?” I asked, jerking my head at the city while looking up into her irisless eyes. As always, I couldn’t read anything in the flat reds, but she frowned.

“Yeah, you see that pool of blood over there?” she tossed her up and over to the right. I followed her intent. There was a pool of dry red-brown goo on the floor about ten metres away.

“One tried to ambush me up here. I killed it, but there’s no body now. Either something came up to investigate and found it, or more likely the thing has a hive mind through the nanites.”Okay, yeah, I could get that they knew she’d been here, but that didn’t explain where the body went though.

“but nanites wouldn’t bother sending someone to pick up a downed drone, would they?” she looked right at me, brow almost furrowed in concern.

“Other hive mind insectoids don’t, but that doesn’t necessarily mean this one would either,” she rebutted though she didn’t sound convinced. There was another possibility we weren’t saying. I don’t know if she’d thought of it, it had to be said, even if she laughed at it.

“Could it have gotten up on its own?” I went and asked, half expecting her to snort and tell me not to be silly, that this isn’t a movie, dead people don’t get back up. She didn’t. Uh, wow, okay, that’s not good.

“Unlikely, I hit it with nine explosive micro-missiles.” Yeah, that should’ve been enough to rip most Gen’dai to shreds, and more than enough to keep the dead down. It was way more than she needed.

Zul’s frugal with her microfacturing plant. If she needed to use nine explosive missiles, it needed nine to take one down. So, we had a swarm that didn’t care about pain or losing members, had members that could go toe-to-toe with mobile weapons platforms and if you killed them, might get back up again: great. We really couldn’t just run and gun it: we needed a smarter tactic. Guess she’d made the same call when she asked about EMPs. Well, if nothing else, it shows I’m as smart as she is. I reached the same conclusion too.

I looked over the city again, trying to figure how I could possibly get Jeek’s device to affect the entire cavern, even with our printed amplifier. We’d have to be high up, or the buildings would baffle the signal. I looked around, and smiled. As far as I knew, and I’m not an electrical engineer or anything, light was an electromagnetic wave. If the mirrors bounced light all over the cavern, maybe I could reflect an electromagnetic pulse the same way.

“Okay,” I stated, my voice getting stronger, more confident, “we need to get up there.”

We made our way down into the city in silence, our eyes everywhere. The slightest movement could tip us to a trap or the shambling horde swarming us. Zul was in front, but that wasn’t much of a comfort. The only sound nearby was the rustling of my synth-leather jumpsuit. In the distance, it was deathly quiet, no electric hum of power cables, no speeders nothing. I guess it would’ve been nice once, like a cabin in the woods away from the bustle of civilisation. Now though, it was just too quiet.

As we approached the edge of the buildings, Zul stopped so suddenly I walked right into her. Pain stabbed through my arm where I squished it against her jetpack. Gah, jerk! Biting my tongue so I didn’t hiss out anything, I cuffed her shoulder with my good hand. Aside from the ‘plink’ and the pain flashing across my knuckles, nothing came of it. She probably didn’t even notice. I glanced around her and immediately felt bad. There were at least five ghosts shambling down the street. They weren’t like the ones in Golah’s base either. They hadn’t seen us, but another step would’ve put us right in their sights. Okay, so maybe there was a good reason why she’d stopped suddenly, and another why she hadn’t said anything. We really don’t know how sensitive their hearing is.

She dropped to a crouch and scuttled across the road, blaster drawn. I bit my tongue to keep a giggle down. looking almost like some humanoid arthropod in her chitin plated armour. Once on the far side of the street, she made her way up the stairs. Once at the top, I saw her sweep the roof, making sure it was clear before gesturing me over. I looked up the street, made sure the ghosts faced away and awkwardly scuttle-crouched across the road. Stars I hope no one is recording this.

Reaching the far side, I slowly started crawling up the stairs. They were mud bricks and cool beneath my boots. They were also uneven. I caught my foot on the lip of one and stumbled. Pain stabbed up my wrist as I snatched the wall, steadying myself. I tried, I really did but a hissing gasp got out. Zul was by me in no time at all, hauling me off the wall and up the stairs. That’s what probably saved our lives.

I saw the top of a ghost shuffle past on the street below. If I’d been where I was a moment earlier, it would’ve seen me, no doubt about it. As it was, it’d only just heard a hissing gasp and the rush of chitin on mud-brick. That didn’t necessarily mean it had to be intruders, right?

I looked at Zul and saw her eyes go wide. The shambling got louder, closer as the ghost slowly made it to the stairs. It was checking what the sound was. The ghost shuffled towards the stairs. We scrabbled away from the steps, looking for anywhere to hide. The roof was smooth, but it was adjacent to another building, a taller one with a lip separating them. Zul grabbed me, and a weird sense of weightlessness took over me as we shot up on top of the building. Landing, she dropped to the ground, me on top of her. I rolled off, and slithered on my belly over to the edge.

The ghost had made it to the top of the stairs, and its hollow cybernetic eyes surveyed the rooftop. It was grotesque, its head a mass of maimed flesh and lank noodles of brown hair over stained full-length robes Slowly, it turned its head towards where we were. I shimmied backwards. I don’t think it saw me. It didn’t make a sound, none I could hear over the chattering of my teeth or the rushing in my ears. Zul raised herself up a little, peering over the rooftop. What are you doing, it’ll see you! I motioned her to get down, thought I didn’t dare say anything aloud. She ignored me, staying absolutely still. If it saw her, it hadn’t made a sound.

I got an awful pr1ckling sensation on the back of my neck. Awkwardly, I looked down, and saw a stairway railing up to this rooftop. It could get up here too. Worst case, every one of them knows we’re here. At that point, we go loud, running and gunning our way over the rooftops to the statue and climb it. From what I’ve seen, they don’t have the agility to climb anything more difficult than stairs. I shuffled forwards, and saw the Ghost finish its sweep. I stayed absolutely still.

Slowly, it advanced onto the roof, heading for the upper stairs. It must’ve seen us! I tensed, ready to jump up and run, but Zul’s hand on my back held me down. It shambled closer, passing too close to see from our vantage point. I could hear a slow drag-thump, drag-thump sound, it’s shambling gait. It faded again, as the Ghost shuffled to the stairs and Zul’s hand left my back.

“Down,” she whispered, barely audible even for my enhancements. She didn’t need to tell me twice. We clambered down, pressing our backs against the wall. If another came up the stairs, it’d see us, no doubt about it. Still, we couldn’t move. We got any further from the building and the one on top wold see us.

Drag-thump, drag-thump, drag-thump: the sound was right on top of us. I craned my neck up to see it loom over us, staring blankly at the silent cityscape. Grey goo dripped from its ragged, bare feet, puddling on the ground above us. Any more to the left and it’d splattered my hair. I don’t know if I could’ve kept quiet through that. I was having trouble now, just resisting coughing. My throat was dryer than the desert outside. It stayed up there for way too long, grey goo sluicing down the wall, before turning. It drag-thumped away,

It passed right beside me. I went absolutely still, not even daring to breathe. Any movement could tip it off, and if it saw me, that was it. There’s no way I could get away without it touching me. It carried on, towards the stairs. I waited until it’s head was out of sight before I let myself breathe. Whew, that was way too close. You know, if it had been any taller I might’ve passed- Oh my god! That ghost had been a child. I felt like I could be sick. I wasn’t. Instead, I took a few more breaths for good measure and glanced at my partner.

Zul watched the lower stairs for a long minute before she finally noticed my attention. Glancing at me, she flashed me a nervous smile: she was just as scared as I felt. That did wonders for both my self-esteem and anxiety. After a shared glance, she jerked her head away from me, a gesture to get moving if ever I saw one. Yeah, good plan, let’s get right on that.

My legs ached from all the walking we’d done today already but they didn’t give me any trouble at all while we ran across the rooftops. Plus side to all those narrow winding streets, loads of buildings were bunched up close. I’m no gymnast or anything, but I managed to clear small gaps by myself. Sure, Zul cleared them effortlessly, but I don’t have a repulsorlift.

Trouble came when we had to cross a street. It wasn’t wide, maybe one and a half metres, but there was a lip on the far side, high enough to make me pause. Zul didn’t slow one bit, put a foot on the edge and leapt, clearing it in one easy go. Landing gracefully halfway over the roof, she turned and gestured me over. Yeah, I don’t have a repulsorlift like you do. Desperately, I glanced around, looking for another way around. No such luck, fine. I took a couple steps back, sprinted at the wall, and leapt.

I soared through the air, wind rushing through my hair spikes and it felt great. I remembered being a little girl on Nar Shaddaa, playing with the other urchins. We used to play Jump, where the goal was to jump over the bottomless abysses between walkways. The lip came up, I stretched my leg out to put a foot on it and it went up past my waist. Not good! Zul was by the lip and she grabbed my arm, my right arm. My world exploded as electric fire jagged all along my arm. I must’ve cried out as she hauled on me. I think I could hear it, but everything was all abstract and vague. All I knew for sure was that it hurt, a lot. Right then, if I had a vibroblade free, I’d’ve considered it. I felt my left foot graze something but it was almost lost in the pain. Sadistically, Zul hauled on my arm, bringing me up and over the lip.

She laid me out on the rooftop, and finally let go of my arm. I brought it close, clutching it close to my chest. She was beside me. Something small bit me on the other arm, and the pain slowly started to recede. I know exactly how long I lay whimpering, clutching my arm, but it felt way longer.

“Damnit, are you okay?” Zul asked, and I could see the worry in her blank red eyes.

“Think you can manage getting out of here in the next few seconds, because we’re about to meet the natives.”

“They found us?” I asked blearily. My head felt like a fog had settled in there. I guess that’s the drugs taking effect.

“Well, you did kick one in the face.” What, I didn’t kick anyone in the-, I looked at my boots. There was grey-black ichor smeared over the toes of the left one. When’d that happened? Blearily, I shook the miasma from my mind and broke my fall down into a simple equation.

These buildings are about three metres tall. I’m maybe half that and Zul’s a couple of centimetres taller than me. More than that, I hadn’t reached the far side of the gap. Even if she’d dangled herself by her boots and pulled me up vertically, we’d have barely touched the ground. Yet I’d definitely hit something, my twinging toes told me that much. I needed to check this. Slowly, I hauled myself over to the lip and peered down.

A ghost slowly rose from the muddy ground, its body twitching as it shuffled up. I almost didn’t see the grey-black ichor sluicing from its darkened nose. It matched the stuff on my boot. Huh, guess I did.

There were ghosts shuffling up the stairs of buildings all around us. We were surrounded, and it’d only be a minute or two before they cut our escape routes. The statue loomed over us. We weren’t far: time to go loud.

I jumped to my feet, taking a moment to stop swaying and drew my blaster. I ran straight for the statue, shooting at the ghosts in my way. Yeah, Zul said it took nine explosive missiles to down one, but I’m not after downing them. I shot at their legs. Just because they don’t feel pain doesn’t mean they don’t need knees and ankles to walk. Given how they shambled, I guessed a few shots could hobble them easily enough.

Red and blue shots matched my gold as Zul followed close behind, peppering the ghosts in front of us. They staggered towards us, their ungainly movements hampered by the shots burned out of their legs. One, two three went down, arms flailing as their legs collapsed. We sprinted past, through an ever-thinner exit corridor.

Now closer, I saw a maintenance lift hanging by the statue base, an old style metal cabinet with ropes leading up to the cavern roof. We could use it to get up on top of the statue. Only trouble was that the statue was in the middle of the roundabout. The roundabout was filled with ghosts. I don’t mean like a hundred or anything, but more than enough to swarm us if we got close.

“Don’t stop, jump!” Zul called from behind me. I bounded over the reach of a downed ghost, and saw the statue’s base. If we could reach it, we were safe. Only problem was that it was in the middle of the roundabout. Said roundabout was ten metres wide, there’s no way we can jump that. She had to be crazy, we couldn’t get through them if we went down-, no. She doesn’t think I’m stupid: I should do the same. She knows all this. She has something else in mind. I reached the edge and jumped. She was right on my heels, literally.

She grabbed me from behind, one hand on my stomach, the L of the other on my collarbone. Hauling me close, I felt a weird rush around me as her repulsorlift kicked in. She fired her jetpack and we rocketed over the roundabout full of ghosts, into the swinging stage. Zul dropped me as soon as we were over it, landing on the far side. I landed feet first, staggering a step forwards to keep my balance. There were Ghosts all around us, maybe three metres from the stage. If she noticed, she didn’t say. Instead, she grabbed the rope and started hauling on it.

We shot up, so fast I think I left my knees down on the ground. My bottom hit the floor of the swinging stage hard enough to send tingles up my spine, and then the coil of rope slapped me in the face. I brought my good arm up to shield my eyes, and felt the rope bounce off my wrist. Safe from the hempen assault, I looked up and saw Zul.

She was… kinda funny to watch actually. She’d leap up, grab the rope with one hand and then drop down to a squat before leaping and grabbing with the other hand. She looked like one of the Beek-Monkeys back in Kalabba’s circus on Nar Shaddaa. It was too much: I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. The sound echoed through the cave as we ascended, distorted and warbled by the far walls into some hideous mockery. I got it under control by the time we reached the aerial.

Heaving the coils off me, I stood up, clutching the side as tightly as I could with my god arm. Have ever mentioned how much I don’t like heights all that much. Yeah I know, I’m a Nar Shaddaa girl, I grew up with them, but that’s the thing. Nar Shaddaa has railings everywhere and you know every platform is built to hold Hutt weight limits. The stage had rails sure, but it swayed with every tug. All it’d take was one frayed wire and we were both dead.

I forced myself not to look at the hanging metal basket, not to calculate relative tensile strength of used flexisteel wire and apply it to known weights, like say, a certain Chiss in heavy armour and slicer team. Instead, I forced myself to look at the transmitter. This was where I earned the big bonus, accolades and awards, if, you know, we were getting paid for any of this. Okay, let’s see what we got here.

The reflector was a simple socket joint attached to four hydraulic pistons spread evenly around it. The system was rudimentary and probably needed maintenance way too often, hence the swinging stage. They’d hooked the controls up to a simple computer system on the far end of a tight-beam transmitter. I couldn’t slice in from here, only at the source point.

Okay, Optics: relax filters on infra-red through to low level microwave. The world distorted as my view changed. Turning my head, I closed my eyes, waiting for the false image burned onto my fake retina to fade. Then, I slowly opened my left eye. Shimmering heat flashed through as reds and greens shifted beneath me, with the occasional blue marking the cavern floor. Okay, heat had been a dumb idea. Optics: reset filters to factory standard. Relax filter visual to gamma.

The world shifted again, fading to black, apart from a translucent silhouette of the cavern, reflecting from six sharp beams, forming a crossed box. The pillar next to me formed one of the corners. The middle would give us the best coverage. Looking at the cross in the centre, I made sure I was looking directly at the centre. Okay, Optics: reset filters to factory standard. The world returned to normal, and I saw the carved pillar in the centre of the cavern. I very specifically didn’t turn my head.

Optics: magnify sector Mern-25 to Nern 26. There was a platform- no, a walkway that ran halfway up the column. Huh, guess that’s how they control the signals, someone had to run all the way up the pillar and do it manually. Guess that’s better than keeping it ground level, for us anyway. There probably aren’t any ghosts that high up.

“How’s it going,” Zul whispered into my ear. I twitched. It’s not that I forgot she was there, it’s just, uh… okay I totally forgot she was there.

“Okay, we can’t access it from here, but we can get them all from that walkway on the central pillar.”

“And we need to be over there? You know they’ve surrounded us down below, right.”

“Then I guess now’s as good a time as any to test Jeek’s device. Pass it over would you,” I asked, reaching back. She handed me Jeek’s experimental device, a long slender metal tube with buttons along the handgrip. Earlier, Zul said it took nine micro-missiles to take one down. She doesn’t exaggerate. Yet, even when they’d been bearing down on us, she had stuck to her blasters. Here’s why.

The device now boasted an elongated snout that fanned out like a blooming flower. Her microfacturing plant had been busy synthesising the transformer, turning the tight-beam EM pulse transmitter into a fan waveform. Taking it from her, I pointed Jeek’s now amplified stunner at the reflector dish and pressed the big red button. The tip flashed blue and then everything went dark.

It was 15 fifteen years after Sera’s death that I got a call from the Jedi council. The message was marked urgent. Which probably meant that they knew something they knew I wouldn’t like one bit. Damn right San. Shut it Hel. Deciding to take the call with the Grey Nova’s holoterminal in the center room. Thankfully everyone on my crew was off on supply runs for me so it was only me and HK-51 left on the ship, leaving Arachai free to answer the call.

On the holo was a woman in black and red robes, oh great it’s the Templar. You’re not wrong Hel but do shut up. “To what do I owe this pleasure to Master Lyomie Gyle, Barsen'thor of the Jedi order.” My voice was dry and sharp, not wasting time with pleasantries. I approve.

The Templar’s voice was soft but commanding and her eyes spoke of restrained rage. “Master McKairn, the council is requesting…” Her voice tinged with disgust, “that you come to Tython immediately, It’s about Rheyja.” The mention of my daughter’s name brought rage to Hel and my collective heart. We were both ready to kill.

I wrenched my mask off my head, showing the cold rage etched onto my face now. “If you did anything to her or let something happen there will be no stopping me.” Venom was seeped into my voice, my red eyes burning. Gyle simply sighed, rolled her eyes and cut the call. I began screaming incoherently, almost tearing at things that weren’t bolted down. HK grabbed my shoulder, jarring me out of the frenzy of destruction. Buzzkill droid.

Without a target for my rage It quickly faded away, leaving me with the only option of seeing what the robo-Jedi council wanted and why it involved my daughter. I sent messages to the crew after I set the course, telling them that I would pick them up in a week or two at Port Nowhere. As the ship began traveling to its destination I donned my mask once again, I had a feeling that Arachai would still be needed more than Helksan.

Tython was a lush planet. Although due to a with attack a year and a half ago the surface was charred in places. On the surface of the planet padawans were milling about in flowery meadows having a jolly old time. San stop making things up.Shut it Hel we’ve got something to do here, not to stop and describe the scenery. The padawans that got close immediately shied away once they looked into the eyes of the mask. It wasn’t until I reached the temple that I felt a dark and powerful surge of pain and rage, it felt similar to how Arachai’s power used to feel. That’s our little girl isn’t it? What are they doing to her? Her pain is causing my rage to siphon away.I don’t know Hel but it can’t be good if you don’t like this. I never said anything about dislike San, just that my rage was being drained. Quiet you masochistic *****, we have to get to her, now!

The main temple was similar in adjective to the sixth temples back on Dromund Kaas,grand and garish, costing billions of credits that were received tax free. Yup. It wasn’t hard to get in, once the guards saw me they ushered me inside Through the extremely large and expensive fancy doors. When I stepped inside I felt another surge of pain, stronger this time. San, I’m concerned, it's not just her pain, it's like there's another prescience inside her mind. That isn’t good Hel, now where the hell I-there's Gyle, follow that Templar! Gyle was waiting for me as far as I could tell, tapping her foot why is she barefoot? impatiently. As I drew closer to her, her eyes twitched with recognition and then she nodded to me and beckoned for me to follow.

As I paced behind Gyle I could feel the force pressure from the force increase as we drew close to the epicenter. After so many years of conflict my hand on reflex reached for my blaster. Not now San, we can’t kill anyone yet. First we get our daughter out of here. Damn it Hel, why do you have to be right? Cause I am. Now San, I know you’re worried, but do take in the sight of this place, it is rather grand. Not the time Hel. Our destination was reached soon after that last thought, and just after we arrived the force pressure halted suddenly.

Oh *****. Gyle appeared to have also sensed the sudden disappearance of dark pressure. Ignoring that information in order to press on, I entered the still very expensive looking cell that the Jedi apparently possess for their members. Inside the (still very posh) cell was a sight that brought ice to my veins. My little girl was huddled in a corner, not crying, not shaking, just sitting there with her knees to her chest, unmoving. Not quite believing that my once active and bouncy little girl was catatonic. I removed my mask sure that the video feed was deceiving me. San… Once my bare eyes saw her, I could not disbelieve it anymore. I turned to Gyle, my breath slowing and my hands clenching into fists “What the hell happened!? Why is she like this!?” I have to consciously order my fists to unclench.

“She was on a strike team to take down the sixth emperor, it failed over a year ago.” The templar’s voice was smooth and frustratingly even.

Blood tinged my eyes red, Hel and I spoke in unison “And you didn’t think to tell me that my daughter encountered the forsaken Sith Emperor and lost?! You didn’t think to tell me a year ago that this happened?!” Sera would be furious San. I know Hel. Lightning started to spark across my vision.

“We just got her back a day ago.”

End Of Part 1

Oedicar felt the life of the Emperor Valkorian drain away, Kaellik had done it, the most powerful being in the galaxy lies dead at the feet of a crime lord, not some jedi or sith, but a man with a gun, something no one would ever guess could happen.

The next part was worse than Oedicar could have expected, the sickening plague that was the posthumous Emperor’s Aura washed over the room, all light was extinguished as the darkest lord’s breath halted, his evil spreading about the room.

Myrc tried to shield his apprentice, a shield made of light only diverted the flow away for a few precious seconds, time enough for a drastic measure. Myrc shoved Kuratoro off the bridge, probably hoping his loyal ally could catch himself before he fell too far to recover. The darkness began to overtake Myrc as well, his shield faltering under the onslaught of the dreaded monster’s last vestiges of willpower.

Kuratoro caught himself very far down, his face contorted into a visage of anger, Amber eyes burning against the dark. Unhurt, but too far away to do anything, he could only watch as the dark filled the room he had just left. The young sith began to meditate, trying to send his strength to his master, the jedi whom held his loyalty. Oedicar felt more than saw Myrc become bolstered by this, his shield’s strength redoubled.

Moments later, Myrc’s face twisted in pain, a spike of emotion showed his shield weakening, rage seeping into the calm jedi’s expression. The shield fell, Myrc was lost in the drowning dark, the force he gave off screamed of madness, of fear, of rage, no longer did humanity grace his features, and then… darkness overtook him.

Soon Kaellik stood in the only spot of light, all else was filled with the dark, a dark so deep it had physical form. An anchor holding Oedicar in place, helpless to do anything. Myrc, laughing in the abyss, sanity having fled that gentle soul. Oedicar was glad Vette wasn’t here, he didn’t want her to suffer, and this was ultimate suffering. Soon Oedicar felt the darkness begin to drag him away, all feeling leaving him.

He felt the madness begin to pervert his mind; a shape made of pure darkness manifested approached Oedicar, its massive fist hurtling through the air straight for him. Oedicar didn’t see it impact, his body so corrupted by the dark that he was a silhouette in that room, no different than a shadow upon the floor.

Arcann took the throne, his covered face in a clear sight of triumph. His vision turned to those in the throne room, clear contempt written on those once elegant features.

Oedicar’s vision went dark, sinking into a dull void, no more strength to support him.

Pain and confusion, that’s what Oedicar felt, carbonite leaching the strength from his bones and nothing to grasp onto but the ground. Oedicar opened his eyes, but to his dismay everything was black, not a thing to be seen, only the sound of labored breathing and the feel of the metal catwalk and the pain, the mind numbing pain of leaden bones grating and sinew moving for the first time in a long time, carbonite chunks ripping out skin and leaving raw patches behind in the machine. Blood began to flow as his heart beat once more, leaving his body through the bloody holes the carbonite and battle had left.

It took what seemed like hours for the bleeding to stop, but it did, leaving Oedicar woozy from the lack of blood. He still could not see, carbonite still withholding that from him. He began to stumble towards the nearest point of light in the force, searching for anything at all to orient himself.

Pain wracked his mind as his sight began to return, blinding white replacing blackness that remained an abyss.

The first thing he saw was the face of an enemy, a man long dead wandering past his face...

The blue-haired hunter pulled Ketturah out of the ditch, but she insisted on walking to his camp under her own power. Good thing it wasn’t too far, she thought as she lowered herself to the grass. He had set himself up in a little hollow between two of the rolling hills, sheltered from the wind and hidden from most directions. Pretty smart, she had to admit. But she wouldn’t have made it there if it had been much further. Her foot throbbed in steady pulse with her heartbeat and it felt like she was about to barf.

“Wait here,” he said, climbing into a small tent. A moment later, he reappeared, dragging a backpack.

“What’s that?” she asked stupidly.

“The booze.” Even in the darkness, she could see him grinning. He opened the pack and started to dig through it.

“My name’s Cato, by the way.” A second later, light flickered into existence.

“Ketturah” He had built a small fire pit out of rocks, she saw, and cleared away the grass near it.

“Nice. How’s your trip coming?”

“Splendid. Yours?”

“Eh, not too bad. Pretty hot earlier, but it’s cooling off now.”

It was. Even in the relative shelter of the camp, Ketturah was starting to shiver. She edged closer to the fire.

Cato held out a flask. “Want some?”

She took it and watched as he unfolded a wire-framed tripod and slid it into the fire to hold up a pot of water. She took a sip. Sweeter than most alcohol she had tasted, with a flavor that reminded her of leather and wood smoke. Or maybe it was just the fire. She took another sip, then a few more.

Finished with whatever he was doing, Cato sat down opposite her and held out his hand. Returning the flask, she watched as he took a large swig and wiped his mouth. “Good stuff, that,” he said.

She shrugged. “Where are you from, then?”

“Hapes cluster, although this is Tionese.”

“Hapes?”

“Backwards little star system, not really very interesting. Most notable bit is the complete lack of this.” He gestured around him.

“Grass?”

“Night. That’s what the implants are for, before you ask. Not seeing real darkness until you’re twelve tends to kark

up your night vision. What about you?”

“Coruscant.”

He spat into the fire. “Never did like that place.”

“Neither did I.” Which wasn’t strictly true, there had been things she didn’t mind, but overall, definitely not great.

“Nice kit.”

“Thanks. Most of it’s new. I had some good luck with my last bounty and thought I deserved an upgrade from my grandparents’ old camping gear.” He pulled the pot of boiling water off the fire and poured in the contents of a foil envelope.

“So you’re used to this sort of thing, then?” Ketturah watched him stir the pot. He was pretty hot, she realized. The way his hair fell over his forehead and matched his eyes and the smooth medium-brown skin. Even his cybernetics looked good, something she couldn’t ever remember saying before. Of course, most of the cyborgs she knew came out of Nar Shadda chop-shops, so…

He looked up. “Yeah, my grandpa used to take me out there when I came over to visit him. Never thought it would be this useful. Want some soup?”

“Sure.”

Cato filled a bowl and handed it to her, then sat blowing on the pot and taking experimental tastes from a spoon. She tried not scarf down her portion. After all, she could have taken care of herself just fine, but hot dinner was better than more dry rations.

“Does it taste ok?”

“Yeah… Thanks. It’s really good.”

He smiled, and she couldn’t help smiling back. What’s wrong with me? I know my rules about boys. Still, the tingles felt pretty good. She scraped the last of the soup out of her bowl and set it down next to the fire.

A few minutes later, Cato looked up from his own meal. “Mind helping me wash this stuff out?”

“With what?”

“There’s a pond right there.” He pointed over the hilltop.

“Really? Where?” How could she have missed one?

“In the little dip between this rise and the next one. Water likes to collect in spots like that. There’s not a ton, but plenty for what we want.”

“Oh.”

“I meant what I said about teaching you wilderness stuff in exchange for backup. You know it’s not as easy as you

were hoping, and I’m still pretty sure Shar Nolend is going to have some kind of nasty surprise for us.”

“I’ll think about it.” She stood up and started in the direction he had pointed. After sitting for a while, everything hurt

more than it had before, but she tried to keep it off her face. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.

Sure enough, there was a little pond, shining in the starlight. Ketturah dipped her hand in experimentally. Cool and soothing. If she could just stick her feet in…

Cato was bent over the waterline, rinsing his pot. A pause to flick the lose end of his scarf over one shoulder, then he resumed. Setting the bowl and spoon in the mud, she and peeled off her boots and socks and rolled up her pants.

The water felt like a shock of plasma and stung her blister, but she kept walking forward. Mud squished between her toes. Something splashed out of the water further in and sent ripples lapping around her ankles. It wasn’t as cold as she had thought it would be. In fact, it felt pretty nice.

Taking a few more steps in, she looked back. Cato was still bent over his work, a serious expression on his face. She waded a little further and looked again. He raised his eyes to meet hers. “What are you doing?”

“Come on in. It feels great.” She unzipped her jacket and lobbed it onto the shore, hopefully not into the mud.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to go swimming in strange lakes?”

“My mother’s never lived in a city smaller than ten million. It’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure what was putting her in such a good mood, but she’d blame exhaustion and whatever alcohol Cato had given her.

He stood up and looked from the water to her. “Isn’t it cold?”

“Not once you get further out.” She felt water lapping at the bottom edges of her pants. Great.

“If you say so.” He pulled off his boots and deposited them on the shore along with his scarf. Then, he started unfastening his belt. A moment later, he was wading out to meet her, wearing nothing on his lower half but his boxers.

Kettrah tried to stop herself from staring. “Nice legs,” she said, only half sarcastically.

“Thanks. But notice you have wet clothes now and I don’t.”

“True.” She bent down slowly, then lightning fast sent a giant splash towards him. “Or you didn’t, anyway.”

“Why you-“ He kicked at her, sending another wave of water towards her face.

“Told you it wasn’t too bad.” Splash.

“Shouldn’t say it if you can’t take it!” Splash.

Her shirt was soaked through now and her hair was streaming in her eyes, but she could still see well enough to dive for him. He weighed more than she had expected, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t used to fighting larger opponents. They both fell into the water with a smack that sent water rushing up her nose.

Coughing, she managed to stand up before Cato pulled her down again. “No fair!”

With a kick, she broke free of him and surfaced again, drawing in deep breaths. A moment later, his blue head bobbed to the surface. “You’re right,” he said, gasping. “It is warmer out here.”

“Told you.”

He glided towards her. “Still, we should probly’ get back. It’s just going to keep cooling off out here, and I don’t want to leave the fire alone too long.”

“Eh, we’re fine for a little while longer, I’m sure.” Kettrah felt her heart start to pound.

“You think so?” They faced each other in the water, faces less than half a meter apart. “Because that would be nice.”

Almost before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards her.

For a moment, she thought he would push her away, but then he brought his lips in to meet hers. They were warm and surprisingly soft and he kissed hard, like he was afraid she wouldn’t let him do it again.

He didn’t need to worry. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and kissed him again, letting the water take most of her weight. “You’re a good kisser,” he murmured.

“Take me back to shore and I’ll show you something else I’m good at.”

@Oliverthefighter: Nope, never encountered that glitch throwing Noctaire off the far side of Soa's platform yesterday. It must just be you, have you checked your computer?

@Toatokua: Enjoyed the tensions between a Republic aligned quasi-Sith and the Jedi, especially with such a charged issue.

Oliverthefighter: Great description and explanation regarding their interaction with Valkie's malevolent miasma.

As for part II: nice description, I could almost feel his pain as he thaws.

@Mirdthestrill: liked the innocent splash game and their reversion from hardening killers, though I have one major question... why was it warmer further from shore? Is it Biological, geological or simply that they are out of the wind. Dantooine isn't all that geoloically active, but could it be geysirs or something like a black smoker?

Warning lights bathed the interior corridor of the fury interceptor as the internal airlock hissed, signifying their triumphant return. The quiet clanking of two pairs of boots on metal deck filled the air, broken only by the internal airlock hissed closed behind the twi’lek and the boy. That was unusual. Normally, they were chatting or the boy was bouncing off something by now. Something was amiss.

“Okay, we’re back on the ship. Now are you gonna tell me what’s up with you? You haven’t said a word to anyone since we left the hut, even to Sharack, and she wanted to congratulate us.” Vette asked as Roan took another step forwards, towards the bridge, and stopped.

“Vette, can I ask you something?” the boy asked quietly, his voice sounding odd, as if something was missing. The mouthy twi’lek shut her incessantly moving mouth for once, and half slid into a shooter’s stance before answering.

“Yeah, what is it?” Whatever had gone on planetside, it had driven something between them, something usable perhaps?

“Do you want to be here, doing all,” he trailed off, non-committedly waving his hand around the room, “this?” Silence fell between them, a long heavy stillness filled with something vague yet ominous.

“I – uh,” she intoned after a long moment, her words lost in the lone thought that trundled through that twi’lek mind.

“You don’t have to keep doing this if you don’t want to. We can go to Nar Shaddaa and drop you off if you like. You can be with Taunt and Plasmajack and not stuck around here,” he started strong but fell into murmurs, the last part practically too quiet to hear. The words were louder than starship engines to her though. She stopped, just staring down the corridor to the cargo hold and engine room. You could see it on her face, the thought of freedom, of escape back to her old life as a filthy degenerate, stealing relics for a culture that should’ve been obliterated centuries ago.

After all, she had never been a willing follower, a capture turned slave turned caregiver. She could see it already, abandon the boy, return to her life of crime on Nar Shaddaa, and release the talons she has in him. Certainly, any imperial involvement would end, but she was more the type to sneer at proper assistance than graciously accept it from her betters.

She opened her mouth, spied the boy and the words died in her throat. He looked wretched: eyes reddening, jaw trembling, blood welling from his lip where he bit himself to stave off tears. In short, hardly the strong indomitable figure any Sith should strike.

Her eyes softened on the pitiful boy, and knelt down to meet his yellow eyes. Ah, perhaps that has something to do with this new development.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, not while you’re still you, okay?” she consoled, wrapping her arms around his lean frame. He whimpers something unintelligible and she lets out a slight coughing gasp as he squashes the air from her lungs. They stay fastened together, like a desperately lonely child and a recently returned older sibling.

“You smell bad, and I mean really bad.” He decided into her shoulder. She snorted and ran a hand through his ginger hair. He twitched his head back whenever her fingers found a knot, though she wriggled her fingers more than pulled at them.

“Yeah, least I don’t smell like burnt gornt. Get Captain Stuffy-Pants to check your hands while I go have a shower. Then I’ll put something on the holo that’ll make you feel better, kay. It’s a couple of years old, but I don’t think you’ve seen it.” Slowly, they disentangled, and the filthy twi’lek sauntered off to get clean. The boy padded over to the dejarik table, and slowly pulled his gloves off, laying them on the table.

Dendritic burns spread out from palm to fingertip on both hands, the classic scar pattern of Sith lightning. I sighed, shut down the bridge security console and rose from my seat. As silently as anyone with military dress boots, I marched into the main area of the ship. My charge requires medical attention.